Mass Effect: Plan for the Galaxy
by bored peasant
Summary: I was chosen because I had thought it through and because I knew what pain and suffering was. Now I have the chance to see if my ideas can help Shepard save the galaxy. SI.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N I own nothing. Mass Effect is owned by Bioware**

 **This is my first fanfic. Please play nice in reviews (if I get any)**

 ****

 **CHAPTER 1 - INTRO**

I stared at the being as he stood in front of me, smiling as if he had given me the best gift in the world. His (because it was definitely a he) robes were pure white and gold and appeared to be made of fine silk or possibly soft velvet. They were glowing brightly and it made it hard for my eyes to see clearly.

"No," I said hoarsely.

His face fell into an almost comical disbelief. It might have been funny under other circumstances. As it stood now, I had a hard time believing I would ever find anything funny ever again.

"No?" he asked. "What do you mean 'no'?"

"I mean that I won't do it, Manuel. My answer is no."

"But why not?" Manuel the messenger asked incredulously. "Surely this is something you wanted. I know for a fact that you have imagined doing this countless times."

I stared down at the shredded skin on my shaking hands. The blood hadn't even started to scab yet on my latest wounds. The twisted fingers and assorted scars from the last few months making my skin almost look like a badly mashed together jigsaw puzzle. I refused to look around the room. I certainly couldn't look over _there_.

"Because those are the dreams of someone who hasn't gone through what I went through," I replied. "Or done what I have done."

"But don't you see?" he rebutted. "It's those things that make you the ideal person to go out and stop what will happen to those people."

I just stared at the ground and shook my head. He moved closer and stopped just in front of me.

"Oliver," he said softly, his voice filled with a mix of compassion, insistence and soothing. "What you have gone through has managed to mould you into a person that you cannot even see yourself being yet. We know what person you can be, now that you have gone through such…" the being paused as if he was considering his words, "a defining experience."

I glared at him. "Defining?" I spat out. "This whole thing was _defining_ to you?"

Manuel merely nodded. "I know you are angry. I am not trying to minimise what you have suffered. But, I _am_ trying to show you that such tragedy can still have at least something good come from it, even if you don't believe it right now."

I glared at him a bit longer, before I felt the rage in my chest fade slightly. "Why are you even wasting your time with me?" I muttered. "I know who you represent. Or at least, who you say you represent. Surely you don't think that after I did _this_ that I would be able to get any kind of positive attention." I gestured to the bodies around me, carefully avoiding _that_ one.

Something like pity seemed to cross over Manuel's face. At least I think it was pity; the glowing brightness made it a little hard to see clearly.

"Of course He is aware of what you did," he replied calmly. "And believe it or not, that is actually one of the reasons I was authorised to make this offer."

"What offer?" I snapped back. "You are trying to convince me to be thrown into a _video game_ for crying out loud! Right after this butchery happened. After everything I suffered! Why can't you just let me lay down here and die?" I was shouting at him at this point but at that last word I finally did the one thing I hadn't done since… well that other thing happened. I cried.

The feelings of despair, hatred, lack of finality despite everything, loss sorrow, betrayal…. Everything came rushing back and overwhelmed me. Even before these things happened I was never a truly emotional person. I was the guy that was known for being solid. Over the years many girls had cried on my shoulder, calling me a rock. A rock that was securely stuck in the friend-zone, unfortunately. But I was the guy that others cried to. The shoulder to lean on at funerals, which I had attended more than I really cared for, or just when things hadn't been going well in other ways. I was never the guy that just cried. Call me emotionless or coldhearted. Call it what you will, it was the way I was raised. Men don't cry, be a man. That one got knocked into me from an early age. It wasn't until later that it changed to: men cry, but privately. Emotions like that are not what you show to others.

Yet here I was now, blubbering like a baby, in front of another person. Or eternal being, whatever. And I didn't care. And it was the second time in less than three months. But as far as I was concerned, both occasions were more than justified.

I don't know how long the tears kept falling. In fact I think I fell asleep at some point, as exhaustion finally claimed me. Next thing I know I am waking up with my face pressed against the cold, rough concrete floor.

I groan and push myself up carefully. The broken bones in my hands, wrists and arms make the task more difficult than I would have ever wanted it to be but I persevered until I was more or less sitting upright. No easy feat when I am pretty sure my back was broken too. Not to mention all of the other wounds that my body carried.

Sure enough, Manuel was still standing there. He looked at me with such kindness and concern in his face that I am pretty sure that no matter what he wanted me to do I am pretty certain it was better for me than going through what I just went through.

I ignore him for a moment as I look around me. The bodies were all still were they had been left. Where _I_ had left them. Except for the one that I still refused to look at. I didn't cause that one. As I stared at the scene around me I no longer felt rage, sickness or any of the powerful emotions that had been coursing through my system for the last few months. Now, I just felt empty. Hollow really, with a vague sadness that came from deep within me, like an echo emanating from where my heart used to be.

"Why me?" I finally asked, staring at the being. "Why do you want me to be the one that gets put in a computer game? Surely there are better options."

Manuel gives me a sad smile. "There might be," he admitted. "But there are a few things that work in your favour. For one thing, you actually thought about how you would handle the situation, at least a little bit, so you would have a head start. Another thing is that most of the people that might serve as a replacement are currently less likely to adapt to the situation as they know very little about the Mass Effect universe. And finally," he paused as he looked at _that_ place, "everyone else would have people that would notice they are missing. In a way that can't be explained like this can," he finished in a soft voice.

I glare at him feeling the rage starting to build again. "You mean I am only the most convenient choice," I snarl. I'm starting to feel less friendly towards that sympathetic face. "Everyone thinks I'm dead and even if I am not, it would be better for me to just disappear so why not throw the punching bag a bone and put him somewhere else. Just _LEAVE ME ALONE_!"

My throaty bellow echoes off the bare stone walls for a moment as Manuel just looks at me sadly. He doesn't say anything, just stands there across from me, keeping the room alight with his glowing.

After a long time I look away from him and stare miserably at the floor. "Why do you even care about it?" I ask. "It's just a video game. Nothing in there is real."

"Weeelllll," he begins. I look back up at him, feeling suspicious. "As it turns out, the game is a lot closer to life than people think."

That one gets me. "What do you mean?" I ask slowly.

"Well, as it turns out, the Mass Effect universe… is actually real," he replies, all too casually. "It simply isn't _this_ universe. You see, one of the other messengers was tasked with finding a way to get people from this universe to become familiar with the Mass Effect universe, so as to see who would be able to be moved across to help in the war against the Reapers."

I sit there and mull it over for a moment. "OK, so another being like you gave the idea of a Mass Effect universe to a game designer and Bioware ate it up and made a game out of it. Sound about right?"

"Close," he said. "It wasn't just the vague idea. The events in the game are exactly as they would happen in real life for the people in the Mass Effect universe, no real change at all. If there was no change to the universe, as in I never send you or anyone else there, then things will be nearly exactly as they are in the ending of the game."

"Nearly?" I prodded. I had to admit I was at least a little interested now. If only to listen and try distract myself from my surrounds. This whole conversation was surreal. I wasn't entirely sure I wasn't hallucinating."What's different?"

"Well, naturally, there is no choice as to which Shepard you get in real life. And the damage in real life is probably much larger in real life than the game would show." Manuel gave a small shrug. "And no matter what happens, Shepard saves the galaxy and dies no matter what. The game programmers felt like making things a little bit more optimistic and let the destroy option possibly keep Shepard alive but in real life, no. Dead Shepard and shattered galaxy that then goes into the chaos of civil war as certain people try to put themselves on top of the food chain while everyone rebuilds from the galaxy wide destruction. It takes centuries to fix the damage and costs billions more lives over that period. Other than that, all the main missions, loyalty missions and side quests are exactly as they are in real life. That in itself should give you a chance as you will know in advance what to expect and how to fix things."

He paused and looked at me with a determined expression. "And the real reason I chose you first was because of what happened to you. Look around." He gestured around the room. "Look what happened to you. And despite them doing their best to destroy everything about you, you rose; beaten and broken, maybe, but you rose and did everything you planned to do. You survived and you succeeded." His gaze softened again. "And, believe it or not, this would be a chance for you to find happiness again. The best you could probably have."

I look away again and think about it seriously. Get placed in the ME universe and save the galaxy alongside Shepard. Apparently be happy, but I had trouble believing that I could ever be happy again. At least right at the moment. Or I could be stuck here and have my… situation… hound me for the rest of my life. Or I could just give up.

I look up at Manuel. "Convince me," I say.

The way he looks at me makes me think he is a little unsure and suspicious, maybe a little calculating. "What do you think I have been doing?"

"I think you have been trying to persuade me," I retort. "I have heard about what I can do for them. What possible reason do I have to accept it? Why should I not just say 'no' and lay down and let death take me?" I realise that sounds very drama queen-esque but to be honest, it was still on the cards at this point. "You want me to do this then you need to _convince_ me."

His eyes narrow as he looks at me. I can see that he understands what I had in mind. Honestly, considering who he is a messenger of, I am a little surprised that it took this long.

He sighs. "Why don't we just skip all the nonsense and you just tell me what you want? Do you want to be made a biotic?"

I grunt. "Hell no. I want to be made a Super Saiyan."

He gives me a sardonic stare. "You know I can't do that. Try again."

I grunt again. "Worth a shot," I said. I let out a sigh and wince from the pain in my ribs. It kinda felt like they were grinding against each other. I am pretty sure that's not what ribs are supposed to do.

"Look, if you really want me to do this then I am going to need resources. Money, equipment and other things that I can use to make my most reasonable plan work. Most of that I can achieve if I have enough money to be able to buy stuff later. Not to mention the whole 'not existing in that reality' issue that I just can't be bothered dealing with. So I need to exist, as myself but under a false name, for me to do this, and I need to have enough money to make it work. I am thinking about two trillion credits and about two years to get everything set up before Shepard goes to Eden Prime."

Manuel stares at me flatly, clearly unamused. "Really, is that all?" he asks sarcastically.

I glare at him. "Hey, buddy, you came to me and asked me to do this. You know I am right about needing resources for any plan to work. Otherwise I am just gonna end up stumbling about like all those people who do self-insert fan fiction that have no other plan other than to wind up on the Normandy and pray things go well. That's not why you came to me. You want me because not only will I be able to go there but because I already have at least a vague plan. To do that, I need resources. So again: convince me."

Manuel looked at me for a long moment, his eyes appearing to try and evaluate my very soul.

"I'll be back," he finally said. With a brief pulse of light he vanished into thin air, leaving the room darker now that his glow was gone.

I don't know how long I waited. After a while I fought against the pain and stood up. My twisted and mutilated feet were barely capable of carrying my much-reduced weight. I slowly hobbled towards the one door that led to freedom. I passed into a hallway that was dimly lit by one slightly flickering fluorescent light panel in the roof. I make my way at snail's pace down the hall until I see a door on the left that is ajar. I push it open and see monitoring equipment. It appears to be a surveillance room. There are monitors all showing the dead bodies in the room I just came from. Figures. I knew I had been on camera in that hellhole, I just hadn't realised how many. It was too dark in there most of the time to be able to see. If the lights came on, it usually meant I was about to be too busy to notice something like the number of cameras.

I come over to a computer and start it up. Not sure what the idiots were thinking; it wasn't even locked.

The first thing I notice is the date. I don't know how long I stared at it. The funny thing about being stuck in a dark windowless room without any way to effectively measure time is that you can very easily lose track. Now I see the date on the screen and feel a little ripple of unease push through the emptiness I have inside.

Nine months. I was stuck inside that cell for nine months. I went through all of that hell in _nine months_! Somehow it feels like it was both longer and shorter than that. Mostly longer though.

After a while I start to open files at random. Video files. All of me, showing what they did to me. And her. And _him._ I feel the pains start coming again. Not just the physical ones. The ones that make me want to cry. I quickly shut off the video and stare at the blank screen. I take a look at the desk and see a few pieces of paper, a mug of half-drunk coffee, a couple of USBs and a bunch of uncertain stains. Looking at the computer tower I notice an external HD with 2 TB on the side of it. I fire it up and copy as much of the video recordings as I can into it. If there is anything my old job taught me it was to get as much evidence to cover yourself as possible. Just in case.

Once completed I take a few shaky steps and sink into the swivel chair, wincing as pain shoots through my lower back.

"What are you planning to with that?" Manuel's voice comes from behind me. I swivel and see him hovering about a foot off the ground, his expression curious. I don't know how I didn't notice the brightened room.

"Better to have evidence to cover myself, just to prove I am not lying," I replied, breathing a little heavier than I would have liked. The lack of food, sleep and activity over the last nine months is really working on wearing me out.

"Why would you need that if you go into the Mass Effect universe?" he asked.

I decide against shrugging. Pretty sure I couldn't even if I wanted to. "I might need to use it as proof for something," I reason. "Show Shepard or someone. As a last resort."

He nodded. "So you decided to do it?"

I grunt. "That depends on what you have to offer."

His lips twitch into a small smile. "Well, here is what I have been authorised to do for you," he said. "I can put you in two years early, like you wanted. I can fix you up physically so it will be like none of your injuries have ever happened. I can set it up so that you have an identity that exists in their records, as if you were there the whole time. I can also put you anywhere you want in their galaxy. As for resources, I can't give you massive amounts of credits. However," he puts up a hand to stop me interrupting, "I can give you information that would help you get the credits yourself within a short amount of time. You would have to do the legwork yourself but other than that the credits are easily attainable."

I think for a minute. "I can work with that," I reply. "By the way, what are the rules on changing things? How likely are my actions going to change things from the canon?"

Manuel chuckled. "If we didn't want you to change things, why would I offer you the chance to go in and do just that?" he grinned. His face grew a little more serious. "However, yes, if you do nothing to the main characters it is possible to be able to go through with their story completely unchanged. Every action you have will have consequences. There are no 'fixed points' in the timeline but I would caution you that just because you _can_ take action to stop some things from happening, it doesn't mean that you _should_ stop them from happening. Sometimes the actions that happened as we know them were the best choice available. You can die if you are not careful; we are not making you immortal or immune to the consequences of your actions. For all intents and purposes it will be regular life, just with more knowledge"

I mull that over and make a note of that for the literal future. For at least the beginning I should be able to avoid that. Don't have any plans to interfere with Shepard's early life.

"OK. Now, what do I get out of this?" I ask.

Manuel raises an eyebrow. "You need more?"

I gave another grunt. "You have only told me what I can have to do the job. You haven't given me any actual incentive to do it."

He looks at me thoughtfully. Then he looks over his shoulder behind him as if he is looking at someone that I can't see. I see him nod and look back at me.

"We can give you Jason back."

I stare at him in shock before it turns into a glare bordering rage. "Don't make statements like that if you can't follow through."

"But I can. I promise you that if you succeed in this, you will get him back, alive and unblemished, physically and mentally. But it will be you two living in that universe together, not this one. That's the deal."

For the first time I look at the computer monitor in front of me, aimed at that part of the room. Looking at the rotting remains on the floor, much smaller than the others and a few weeks further along the decomposed stage. For the first time in I can't remember how long, I start to feel a little hope.

"And if I die before the end?" I ask softly.

"Well that depends on how. If you try to die early by deliberately walking into someone's shots without reason, or if you commit suicide by any other way, deal's off. Suicide is still a big 'no' to the boss if it can be avoided. If you die doing everything you can, then you get to be with him on the other side. So, noble sacrifice: yes. Stupid suicide: no."

I stay quiet for a full five minutes as I think about this. "You know if you had told me this at the start, I would have agreed straight away," I say softly.

Manuel gives me a kind smile. "I know. But I wanted to see if you were willing to do it first. To let you know the stakes."

I nod slowly. "Alright then," I say. "Let's get started."

 ****

 **A/N Follow/Favourite if you like. Happy to have constructive reviews, just not trolling from keyboard warriors.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N I own nothing. Mass Effect is owned by Bioware**

 **Still my first fanfic so please be gentle.**

 **Comments:**

 **OnkelJo – Thank you! I hope that I can keep you interested and do this story justice**

 **Raikaguken – Male. Manuel did call the OC 'Oliver' pretty early on.**

 **Daferrad – Thank you!**

 **Ballistix Gaming – Yes.**

 **Guest – Thank you!**

 **Another note – I was asked about whether or not I am accepting OC suggestions. For this story I will be using quite a few OCs that I already have in mind but that doesn't mean that I can't include new ones that I haven't thought of yet. So, the answer is: I will consider suggested OCs. That doesn't mean I will accept any or all suggestions. They could be the best OCs in existence but if I feel that the character isn't the right fit for the story, or if I can't think of the right way to insert them into the story then I am sorry but the character will not be brought to life here. If anyone wants to put in an OC suggestion they may, BUT it has to be at least a little thought out. It can't just be something as basic as 'drunk turian'.**

 **Thanks for reading. Enjoy!  
**

 **...**

CHAPTER 2 – ARRIVAL

We spend a while setting things up before I make my first entrance into the Mass Effect universe. Manuel spent a little time authenticating my identity. I was adamant about having a silent past.

"You know, having more information at the start will save on awkward questions later on," Manuel said in an attempt to change my mind.

"I don't care," I said. "Just have it basically prove that I grew up on Earth and leave it there."

I knew I was being stubborn but I was still not in a good way. A tiny part of my brain told me I would probably regret that later, but right now that part was being shouted down by the rest of my brain. But then, I would like to see anyone go through nine months of straight torture and think completely logically when it was over.

"Fine," Manuel sighed in exasperation. Who would have thought that an eternal being could have short patience?

"Now, what do you want to do so far as your body goes?" he asked.

I looked down at myself. There didn't seem to be a visible part of my body that wasn't covered in brutal scars, bruises and scabs of varying levels of freshness.

"Well," I said, trying to think it through. Seeing as I am taking the hard drive with me with the videos of my torture I think completely fixing the damage might be counterproductive. "Fix all broken bones and torn muscles and ligaments first. Everything under the surface that needs fixing. And that includes fixing my teeth." Note to self for the ME universe: teeth and a hammer do not mix well.

Manuel nodded and clicked his fingers. Immediately most of my pain left me. I tested standing up and found that my feet were no longer hobbled. I looked at my hands on the fingers were no longer mangled, like I had tried finger punching a wall over and over. Or, in my case, having each joint broken over and over. The relief that back from my back, arms, legs and chest was almost overwhelming. I could finally breathe without pain. My tongue could now slide over my teeth without getting cut up by broken fragments of enamel. Opening my mouth without looking like a crack addict is a big plus to me.

I looked down at my shirtless body to think about what I wanted next. "Maybe, make all my scabs into scars," I suggested. Immediately the dried red blood flaked and fell off me, leaving white scar tissue behind.

"Now, how about you fade out all my scars? Don't get rid of them but maybe make them less pronounced. That way if anyone sees them they will definitely notice them but not so much that people get sick just by looking at me," I continued as I inspected my skin.

The scars start fading. All stab and whip marks become white lines across my skin. The worst stab wounds become slight welts. The massive scar on my shoulder become far less pronounced but is still extremely visible. Seeing it makes me think of another scar I can't see.

"The symbols that are burnt into me. Get rid of the symbol itself but keep them as faded burn marks," I stated more clearly. Now that the injuries are healing I am no longer in pain. Weak from lack of food and thirsty from lack of fluids maybe, but no longer in pain.

"OK, now if you can reattach my ear, fix the damage in my right eye and straight my nose to its proper position that would be great. And take care of the ringing in my ears from the tinnitus."

Manuel did as I asked and for the first time in about maybe six months I could reach up to my left ear and feel like it wasn't missing half of the oratory receptor.

We kept going on a few more things, like fixing any and all damage to my groin and nerves. Manuel told me that even though my nerves were fixed, because of what I went through I would still have a higher than average pain tolerance, which suited me fine.

Finally, my body was at a visual level that I was satisfied with. I looked like I had been tortured but the scars were no longer as pronounced and would in no way affect my abilities or performance. I was then given clothes to help me fit in to the Citadel population without causing a scene. Specifically, a long-sleeved shirt in 'modern' style, and long, loose-fitting pants. Once that was sorted we went back to the important details of my arrival.

"Your name, as requested, will be Brock Neilson," Manuel said. "That is what people will be calling you so I hope you get used to it soon. Otherwise people are going to think you are not mentally all there. If anyone yells out 'Oliver' then try not to react to it. Now, where do you want to go?"

"I want to go to the Citadel," I told him. "That's where I can start getting my resources together. But that means that I will need to have money. Getting the money is my first step, so hopefully you can do what you said and help me out."

Manuel gave me a little smirk. He clicked his fingers again and suddenly we were floating over one of the wards. I couldn't tell from our current position which one but we appeared to be midway along one of the arms. We were hovering outside a warehouse that backed onto an alleyway where there were several creatures lounging around. From my height I couldn't tell exactly but I think it was three batarians and a turian. All the batarians were in some sort of armour but I wasn't all that familiar with the equipment. I hadn't really worried about that so much in the game. I was more into the weapons and the missions, not to mention the abilities.

"Alright," Manuel said looking down at the scene below us. "See these three batarians? They are currently wanted by C-SEC for multiple crimes, including slavery and murder of government officials. The bounty on them is extremely generous. Get all three alive and you have more than a few million. The turian is nothing so just wait till he is gone and I will drop you on top of them. Try spread yourself out in the air and you can knock down all three at once. When they are down bring up your omni-tool, like this, and press this button to call C-SEC. While you are waiting for them to arrive, bring up this program here and hack their omni-tools to take the money out of their accounts." He ran through the programs so that I could see them.

I look up in surprise. "You mean I am allowed to hack and steal other people's money?" I ask incredulously. Considering whom Manuel ran messages for this was a big surprise.

"Well, considering the uniqueness of your situation, as well as the overall goal that you are trying to achieve, you are allowed to _appropriate_ resources from the criminal elements and remove obstacles in whatever form without it being held against you by Him. You will still need to watch out as far as law of the land goes."

Wow. If that wasn't a licence to steal from the criminals and kill whoever got in my way then I didn't know what it was. And I was _cleared_ to do it too.

"Be careful," Manuel warned, as if reading my thoughts. For all I knew he could have been. "Do not abuse the freedom that has been given to you. If there is another solution to solve a problem then you are expected to take it. Taking out everyone that gets in your way by killing them will not be tolerated. You still need to talk people into doing things. Believe it or not, most of the people in this galaxy ae not criminals and should not be treated that way by you. Understood?"

I nod my head, feeling no small sense of relief that I can do that now without sending pain coursing through my body. Besides, even though it wouldn't be the first time I had killed now, I am not a psychopath. I wouldn't kill people just because I felt like it. That simply wasn't who I was.

"Good," Manuel said into my thoughts. "Well, if there is nothing else…"

"Wait!" I exclaim as something else flashes through my mind. "One last thing. Can you give me the ability to resist any forced asari mind melds?"

Manuel cocked his head little. "You don't want just anyone to have access to your head? Understandable. Uh…" He looked over his shoulder again, as if looking at someone. "Tell you what, I am going to go out on a limb here and say yes." He snapped his fingers again. "There. Now if anyone tries to get inside your mind without permission, you will have the ability to resist them completely."

I gave a small sigh of relief. "Thank you, Manuel. For everything."

He smiled back at me with that kind expression on his face. "You are welcome, 'Brock'. Now before I drop you off," he tapped me on the forehead with a finger, "you now know the location of eight high quality eezo asteroids. That should give you plenty to work with so far as credits is concerned. Now good luck, and remember: spread out!"

With that he disappeared in a pulse of light and I fell about one hundred metres.

I did my best not to scream as I made my way down. The whole trip only lasted a few seconds but my stomach was still in my mouth the entire fall. I managed to get mostly spread eagle before I hit the ground.

Except that I didn't hit the ground.

I landed directly on two of the batarians and managed to clip the third one with my foot. Somehow, I don't end up with so much as a scratch, which I am going to attribute to Manuel as a parting gift. The turian was nowhere to be seen so I didn't bother with him. I got back to my feet and looked down at the three criminals. Two were out cold and the third was struggling feebly to get back up. I walk over to him and kick in the head, hard. Instantly he joined his comrades in unconscious oblivion.

I follow Manuel's advice and call up C-SEC on my omni-tool. They tell me that they will be there in a few minutes so I follow Manuel's second instruction, bring up the hacking program and drain their accounts.

Wow, not bad. Straight away I managed to get more than a half million credits, just from hacking the batarian's omni-tools. These guys must have been doing a decent amount of crime. Or maybe not. I don't know enough yet to make a decision either way. I remember Manuel saying that the criminals were slavers. I have no idea how much a slave goes for but I can't say I have any guilt for what I have done here.

About ten minutes later I see three aircars landing just in front of the warehouse, all in C-SEC colours with flashing lights. Seven officers start making their way towards me in the alleyway, weapons drawn. Leading them is a salarian, but he isn't the one I am looking at. A turian, second on the left from my perspective, is none other than Garrus Vakarian.

I did my best to not react. Huh, it's strangely easy. Probably because I still feel empty inside, despite my new interstellar location. It's honestly like the majority of me just doesn't care while a small part of me that hopes for my reward. Not the C-SEC one, the one Manuel promised me.

Or it could be that I was expecting to run into him at some point anyway.

Anyway, Garrus is making his way towards me, pistol not quite pointed in my direction. I make sure that my hands are clearly visible and in as non-threatening position as possible. The leading salarian walks straight up to me, pistol drawn but pointed at the floor.

"I am Senior Officer Largol. I assume you are the one that made the call?" he asked me, typically quick salarian speech patterns from what the games showed me.

I nodded. "Brock Neilson. I saw these guys on a wanted list near C-SEC headquarters and remember seeing them out here so I thought I would do the right thing."

He blinked his large eyes at me and nodded to one of his men. The other officers went over to the unconscious criminals and scanned them."

"He's right," an asari declared. "This one here is Jargoth Devor, wanted for slavery, murder, smuggling, theft and damaging public property."

"This one is Drushak Luksan," another salarian spoke up. "Wanted for extortion and as an accomplice to the murder of a member of the volus ambassadorial staff. Ambassador Din has put an extra bounty on top of what C-SEC is offering."

"Last one is Halak Balaam," Garrus called out, standing over the third one. "Slaver, connected to twenty-eight murders of well-respected asari and turian officials. Primarch Fedorian has offered to match the bounty that C-SEC is giving for his capture if he is caught alive."

Largol stares at me unblinking. I stare straight back. Finally, he holsters his pistol.

"Well, it looks like you have performed a public service here," he said. "Well done. We will need you to come to headquarters to make a statement and then we can give you your reward."

I nodded and followed the lizardman to his aircar. The trip to C-SEC was quick and quiet. I wasn't feeling up to talking much and apparently the cop wasn't either.

C-SEC headquarters wasn't really what I was expecting. We arrived at a landing pad that looked a little similar to the one in Mass Effect 3 but other than that I didn't really recognise any layout. I saw the other two air cars land behind us and watched the C-SEC officers drag out the three now awake, but still groggy, prisoners.

One of them saw me and tried to stumble in my direction. Garrus gave him a quick jab to the gut and the batarian was down. The four-eyed alien sent me a glare and seemed to growl out something that sounded like 'I would regret it' but I might have been mistaken. It was pretty garbled.

Largol took me to an interrogation room. It confused me for a moment when I was asked to sit down but I complied with the instruction. To my slight surprise, it wasn't Largol that sat down. Not a minute after I arrived, the door opened again and Executor Pallin walked in, taking the seat opposite me.

"Mr Neilson," he began, tone all business. "I have some questions about your actions today. How did you come to know that the three criminals, Halak Balaam, Drushak Luksan and Jargoth Devor, would be in that location today?"

Ah, interrogation. Wasn't completely expecting that.

"Completely coincidental," I replied as casually as I could. I think I did a good job, if I do say so myself. "I had walked passed the warehouse earlier and saw those three and a turian talking in the alleyway. Then I vaguely remembered the 'Most Wanted' sign that C-SEC posts on its extranet site so I checked it out. Turns out they were the same. So, I went back to the warehouse and got up on the roof. Saw those three talking in the alley and jumped on them. Literally. Knocked them all down and called your men. That's it."

He looked at me, his mandibles twitching slightly. "Well, let's go back to what you were doing in that area of Kithoi Ward."

The 'conversation' lasted for another forty-five minutes before he finally let me go. A quick stop to the bounty collection desk and the officer there transferred the reward to my omni-tool. Sweet. I now had nearly three million credits in cash. That was more money that I had ever had in all the parts of my life combined. I was also informed that I could expect to receive the Hierachy's take of the bounty within the next two weeks. Neato.

I started heading towards the exit to find move to the next part of my plan.

"Mr Neilson!"

I turn around and see Garrus Vakarian, sniper extraordinaire and all-around best gaming bro, walking towards me.

He stops within arms-reach of me and I can't help but be a little suspicious that I am going back into the interrogation room.

"I just wanted to say thank you," he says, to my pleasant surprise. "These guys deserve to rot the rest of their miserable lives behind bars in a small room on a forgotten moon. And because of you turning them in, the galaxy is a little bit safer." He held out his hand and I shake it. His talons are unexpectedly sharp against my wrist.

"Thanks Detective…" l paused, realising that I am not supposed to know who he is yet.

"Vakarian. Garrus Vakarian."

"Well, thanks for your praise, Detective Vakarian," I reply. "But I didn't do all that much. Except land on them at the right moment, I suppose."

He chuckled. "Yeah, well maybe you got lucky but you still called us so that counts as doing the right thing."

I give him a small smile. It wasn't much more than a twitch of the corner of my mouth. "Well, I guess that I did. If I see you around again, feel free to say hi."

He gave what I assume is the turian equivalent of a smile and nodded, then turned and headed out.

Looks like things are already going my way.

 **...**

 **A/N Follow/Favourite if you like; up to you. Constructive criticism is appreciated. Trolls are ignored.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N I own nothing. Mass Effect is owned by Bioware**

 **Comments:**

 **This story has already had a bigger response than I had expected. Thank you everyone that has read it, an extra thank you to those that are following and an extra special thank you to those who favourited it! It's very encouraging!**

 **OnkelJo – Thanks for the constructive criticism. I had planned for the lack of background to give at least a little trouble later. As for the other stuff, I will try to avoid logic gaps, if at all possible. That was one of the things I am hoping to avoid in this story.**

 **Thanks for reading everyone. Enjoy!**

…

 **CHAPTER 3 – INTERVIEW**

Hectar'Galon nar Isareel was feeling hopeful for the first time since he had landed on the Citadel. He managed to get passage here nearly five months ago looking for tech work and almost immediately ran into trouble. He just wanted to work and get some money for his Pilgrimage so that he could go back and work on the computer systems on the _Isareel_. Tech programming was what he did and did better than anyone.

Then he landed and had his money stolen at the docks by some salarian skifter. The only accommodation he could find was a turian shelter where he was excluded, bullied and made to not feel welcomed by any of the homeless turians. He had only never held a job for more than a week at a time and each time had been underpaid. Not because he couldn't do the work; he had completed everything his former employers had asked. They just hadn't paid him because they could get away with it and there was nothing he could do about it and they knew it.

Now, there was a job that was calling specifically for three quarians for extended work. Surely that meant he had a chance to actually make some money and hopefully get back on track with his Pilgrimage. He took the aircar over to Zakera Ward, following the instructions listed in the job placement from the extranet classifieds.

The building he landed in front of seemed like a standard office building, about four stories tall in the standard silver/white colour that most Citadel business buildings seemed to go with when they were closer to the Presidium. Residential buildings too, now that he thought about it. Not that he had ever stayed in one of the residential buildings. He shook off that depressing thought and walked into the building.

Almost immediately his heart dropped. Sitting in the ante room was a desk with an asari matron working at a terminal and nearly thirty other quarians waiting, clearly responding to the same job advertisement. He almost turned around and headed back out the door before realising that if he didn't get this job he had literally nothing else to go back to. With that unsettling thought, he moved towards the asari who looked up as he approached.

"Can I help you?" she asked, her voice polite, not showing any sign of disgust at a quarian. A rarity for him.

"Uh, yes, I am here about the jobs that were advertised," Hectar replied.

"Of course," the blue alien replied. She slid a datapad across the desk to him. "If you could just take that and fill in your information and return it to me, then I can put you on the list."

Hectar thanked her and went to stand in a corner to fill out his information. He took a quick look around at the other candidates. There were no other pilgrims that he recognised here. Not that it was unusual. The _Isareel_ was a pretty small ship in the Patrol Fleet, only a few thousand quarians lived on her, and the ship was not a very important one. Not that anyone that lived on her ever complained. There were certainly worse ships to live on; some of them even gave a person a reputation just for having come from there. Like the _Qwib Qwib._ He turned back to the datapad.

The questions were pretty generic; name, age, ship he departed from on his pilgrimage, how long he had been out. He was happy to be able to say that despite all the discrimination that he had received since he arrived at the Citadel, he was able to honestly state that he had never been arrested by C-SEC. He didn't like seeing the question there but a small part of him couldn't help but understand it. There was a reason why quarians had been labelled thieves. There were only a couple of them that actually stole stuff and it was ages ago, during his parents Pilgrimage, but it made every other pilgrim look bad. It made him angry to think about the damage those few caused the rest of them.

Hectar waited as one by one the other quarians were called in for their interview. Three others on the Pilgrimage walked in behind him, one of whom turned around and walked out. He never saw anyone come back after their interview so no one was ever able to ask questions about it. Some of the other quarians talked quietly with each other before they went in but Hectar stood by himself in a corner of the room. The asari receptionist didn't talk to anyone other than to pass out datapads or to accept the filled out returns. She just tapped away at the console.

Finally Hectar heard his name called and he moved forward from his corner. As he passed the secretary he couldn't help but ask. "Any advice?"

The asari looked up in surprise, as if just realising that he was still there. "Be honest," she said. "He'll know if you're not."

Hectar felt his nervousness increase a little at that. There went the hope of being able to embellish a little. He thanked her and walked through the door.

He found himself in a hallway with no apparent features. He walked slowly down, a little uncertain at what he was supposed to do. He came to a junction with a sign on the wall. It had two arrows, the one pointing left said exit, the right one said interview room. He went right.

He finally came to an open door. It was the only one he had seen so far so he walked in. there wasn't much in the room; just a desk with a box of scrap electronic parts and a datapad. To one side there was a console and a facemask that looked like it was designed to fit over a quarian's suit helmet. It looked like something that had been taken from a shooting arcade for kids, if he was honest.

Seated behind the desk was a human male. He was tall, even sitting down, but quite gaunt, to be honest. He had blonde hair cut short and blue, completely non-glowing eyes. He wasn't sure why that stood out to him. Hectar hadn't had much experience with humans. Despite the noise they seemed to make across the galaxy there were not all that many on the Citadel. The ones that were around tended to stay closer to the Presidium than he was comfortable going to.

What surprised him though were the scars on the human's face. The face itself was unusually pale and there were a lot of faded white scars that could be barely noticed. There were two larger scars that stood out clearly though. The first larger one ran down over his right eyebrow and onto his cheek bone. It looked like someone had slashed his face with a knife and barely missed the eye. The other scar that stood out was a line that went straight from the left ear to the left cheek bone then curved down toward the nose slightly, ending just at the level of the nasal passage. It made him look grim and dangerous. Just looking at him made Hectar feel nervous all over again.

"Welcome," the man nodded at him, voice deep and level with a strange accent. "My name is Brock Neilson. Please take a seat." He gestured to the chair on Hectar's side of the desk.

Hectar sat down, not saying anything. The man looked at him for a long moment then glanced down at the datapad in front of him.

"So, Hectar'Galon nar Isareel," the man continued. "Tell me about yourself."

"Er, what?" Hectar was stumped. Already this wasn't like any job interview had had ever been to before.

"I asked you to tell me about yourself," the man, Mr Neilson, replied. "What type of ship was the _Isareel_? What did you do there? Are you enjoying your Pilgrimage? Have you found a good Pilgrimage gift for the fleet yet?"

"Er… you know about the Pilgrimage?" Hectar asked, dumbfounded.

"Oh, yes," the man said, his tone neutral. "Quite a bit actually."

"Oh." Hectar was surprised. Not many non-quarians usually cared enough to learn anything about the Pilgrimage. They usually just wanted cheap quarian labour. "Um, well…."

He spent a few minutes talking about himself and his time in the Migrant Fleet. He talked about how he had worked in the maintenance crew on the _Isareel_ and how he specialised in programming but he could work on communication equipment and in engineering. Hectar wasn't sure but he thought he saw a spark of interest flash in the human's eyes when he said that.

After about five minutes he ran out of things to talk about and just sat there while Mr Neilson looked thoughtful as he considered the information he had heard.

"Thank you," the human said at last. He pushed the box of parts towards Hectar. "For the next part of the interview, I want you to make something. Make whatever you want but it must come from the parts in this box."

Hectar tilted his head as he considered the interviewer. He wanted to ask why but he felt like that might make him sound stupid. "How long do I have?" he asked instead.

"You have ten minutes, starting… now!"

Hectar immediately began rifling through the box of spares, feeling a little out of his depth. He could build stuff, most quarians could, but he preferred to program. He ignored his preferences and began to assemble something that came into his mind as he raced to complete it. He started small but after less than a minute he decided that going small might not be enough to get him the job.

"Time!" the human called as Hectar finished the final programming nuances with his omni-tool. "Show me what you have."

Hectar held out his work for inspection. In all honesty it wasn't much to look at. An ugly mess of shapes that had been cobbled together from the parts available. He hoped that the functionality of the machine was enough. Especially as there was no eezo core in the box.

The interviewer looked over the machine, his face seemed… thoughtful? Hectar wasn't sure. This human's face was nearly impossible to read.

"What is it?" the man asked politely.

"It's a universal control port and an intercom system. And I loaded a low quality VI to accept voice commands."

One of the human's eyebrows lifted slightly. "And how is it supposed to work?" he asked, his voice not giving anything away.

Hectar rubbed his hands together, feeling his nerves starting to get the better of him. "Well, you would have it in your ship and you could speak to the VI and it would be able to either follow your commands directly or just open the ship intercom and you can talk to the necessary crewman in any area of the ship."

The interviewer stared at him for a very long moment, not giving anything away. It was actually very unnerving for Hectar. Did he go beyond what the human asked for by using his omni-tool? This human was harder to read than krogan poetry.

"Show me," the human said eventually, passing the device back to Hectar.

Hectar grabbed the machine and looked at it uncertainly. He was suddenly grateful for his face mask being able to hide what he was sure was his doubtful expression. He hoped that he had gotten this right. "Uh, ok." He addressed the machine. "Computer: open external communications, text only. Send this message to all local omni-tools in a five metre radius on unsecured frequency: keelah se'lai."

After a moment that felt entirely too long, both Hectar's and the human's omni-tools chirped to show they had received the message. The interviewer opened his device and acknowledged receipt of the brief phrase.

"Impressive," the human said, closing his tool down again. He took the device back, placed it in the box of parts without dismantling it and put the box behind the desk. He looked back at Hectar with his expressionless face and clasped his hands in front of him. Hectar just stared him in the eye, waiting for the human to do something.

"I am going to be honest with you Mr Galon," the human eventually stated, his tone still not giving anything away. "I am looking for crew members for a ship that will be doing some long distance travels as well as some work here on the Citadel. I am hoping to have the same crew together for a number of years. During this time there will most likely be combat involved. If the crew I choose is not confident or proficient then I am happy to provide training as I will be doing some myself, though the combat will not be for some time, all things going to plan. I understand that many quarians do not particularly wish to serve on ships during their Pilgrimage as they rather work in other ways to be able to find a gift to bring back to the fleet.

"What I am offering though, for the lucky three that will be joining me straight away, will be a regular wage during the course of employment. As a bonus, should any quarian serve with me for longer than a year, I will give them a gift to take back to the fleet. The longer they stay, the better the gift. Would you have a problem serving under a human on a ship if you are selected?"

Hectar was stunned. Some pilgrims took years to find a gift that was not going to be an embarrassment to the fleet. Not many took that long but most took at least a year, more commonly two, and they had to do it without any help. Now there was a human that was going to pay him _and_ give him a Pilgrimage gift if he stuck around? It felt too good to be true. So he hesitated.

"Uh," he stammered. "I… uh… I mean… no I wouldn't have a problem working for a hu… working for you Mr Neilson. But your offer seems… too generous. I feel like there is something that I am not understanding."

For the first time the human's mouth twitched into a very small smile and his pale blue eyes glittered with amusement. "I understand," he said. "I realise that there are many beings in the galaxy that do not very quarians very highly. I, however, have no time for such ill-conceived prejudices. I have a lot of work to do and I don't care who does it. There are criminals and lowlifes in every species, just as there are exceptional beings who do their species credit. The offer may sound too much if you have not received much kindness from other species in the galaxy, but it is genuine. I have contracts being prepared by a lawyer here on the Citadel as we speak. The pay is good because I expect the person receiving the money to work for it. I have no time for useless people. There is far too much to do. If you are offered a place with me then rest assured, you will be doing a lot of work. But I believe that being justly regarded for your effort is motivation enough."

Hectar nodded slowly as he considered the man's words. "What sort of gift are you going to give for the pilgrim?"

The human's smile turned slightly sardonic. "That depends on how much longer they stay under my command and the quality of their work. The better the work, the better the gift. Sound fair?"

Hectar nodded again.

"Good," the interviewer said. "Now, just a few more questions and we will be able to wrap this up."

Most of the questions were typical employer questions like 'what are some of your weaknesses?' but it was the last topic that took Hectar by surprise. "What is your opinion on the geth?"

Hectar froze. He hadn't expected that one. "What do you mean?" he asked, stalling for time.

"Well," Mr Neilson said. "The conflict between the quarians and the geth is very well known. I understand that there are those that are very much for destroying the geth and taking back Rannoch through their extinction. Admiral Rael'Zorah, for example. Others, like Admiral Zaal'Koris, believe that conflict may not be the only solution and that there may be a chance for peace that doesn't include the death of the quarian people. Where do you sit on that debate? And please, be honest."

Hectar sighed. This argument had been going throughout the Migrant Fleet for decades. There were not many that pushed for peace with the geth, but there were certainly some loud voices in the peace camp. And in the war camp too. "Honestly, I don't know," Hectar replied, his voice a little glum. "I think if we had the power to take back Rannoch from the geth through war then we would have done it by now. We all hate the geth for what they did to us but we don't have the numbers to win. Our fleet is a mismatched collection of cast-offs from the other races, except for a few old quarian models. If we are to get our home back then I don't think we can do it through battle. Not yet anyway. Does that mean making peace with the geth? I don't know. I think there is too much hatred for that to happen. Not unless something big changes."

That ended the questions and Hectar left after being told that he would be notified within the next two days whether he was successful or not. As he headed out the hallway, following the 'exit' sign, he couldn't help but feel uncertain as to how he had done. The human had given so little away that Hectar could use to judge how he had gone in the interview. As he walked back into the open street, leaving the building behind, he felt himself hoping that he was successful. Somehow, he just felt like it was going to be… interesting.

 **...**

 **A/N** **Follow/Favourite if you like. Constructive criticism is appreciated. Trolls are ignored.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N I own nothing. Mass Effect is owned by Bioware**

 **This story has received a lot more attention than I had expected. Thank you all for your views, follows and favourite!**

 **OnkelJo: Thanks for the reviews! Hmmm, I am beginning to think that I am not going to be able to write a story that is completely free of logic leaps. Still, keep them coming. Maybe I'll manage it later on. I'll keep working on it in the meantime though. Feedback is important to growth.**

 **Anyway, on with the story. Enjoy!**

…

It had been a long week. Long but productive.

The day I arrived I spent mostly just walking around the Citadel after C-SEC released me. I had to admit, even stuck in my emotionally numb situation, it was pretty cool. The place was larger than I had given it credit for. I mean, I knew the size of it mentally, but actually walking around? That was something else.

I also had to deal with the fact that despite Manuel healing the broken bones, ligaments and scars, my body was not yet used to walking around for long periods of time anymore. Maybe it had something to do with the artificial gravity or maybe it was me being chained to a floor for nine months but I had to take frequent breaks to let my legs gain their strength back. They felt a little rubbery still. Oh well, I will get back into it soon enough.

It wasn't until very late on that first day that I started to think about practical things like accommodation.

Armed with a large amount of credits I asked the nearest Avina VI for the location of a decent hotel. She gave me the location of one that was on the boundary of the Presidium and Bachjret Ward that seemed promising. I called for a rapid transit aircar and headed over.

By the time I walked through the lobby I was limping slightly from cramped muscles and my clothes were rumpled from being worn over a very long day, not to mention my long hair and my hobo beard that I had not thought to take care of with Manuel. This, combined with the fact that the hotel seemed to be full of high level business people and possibly lower level politicians who were sitting in the various couches scattered throughout the public open area, meant that I received a lot of disgusted and disapproving glares. I ignored them all and walked straight up to the salarian standing at the reception desk in front of a glowing terminal. He was dressed in a white suit with a red vest that I could only assume was a uniform of the hotel.

"I'd like a room," I said as I reached the desk.

The salarian looked me up and down slowly. "I don't think you can afford our prices, sir," he said, his tone lightly condescending.

My anger flared up, forcing me to take a moment to prevent myself from physically assaulting the lizardman. When it was under control again I placed my hands on the desk and leaned in, allowing some of my fury show on my face.

"Listen up, desk jockey," I growled at him, keeping my voice soft enough that no one else would hear me. "I have had a hell of a week. The last thing I need is for some petty minion in a vest to start giving me lip. So here is what you are going to do: you are going on to your little terminal there and you are going to book me into the best damn room you have. I don't care if the only thing available is the penthouse suite, you are going to book me in there for a week and I will pay up front. The moment I am gone, you are going to call a tailor and have them come up to my room in two hours and not a second earlier. Between now and then, the only interruption that I will have is the person that is going to bring up the food I order through room service. So the only words that I want to hear coming out of your mouth is the number of the room I am staying in and the cost. Understood, _sir_?"

Throughout my rant the salarian leaned progressively further away from me until he looked like he was going to try out for a limbo contest. When I finished he visibly swallowed and began tapping furiously at his terminal. "Penthouse suite 4 is available, sir," he said, his voice having lost. "Elevator to the top and take a left."

The price of the room was twelve thousand credits a night. A week up front was a cool eighty-four thousand credits. It was easily manageable with my current finances but still not an insignificant amount. Regardless, the recognisable look of shock that flashed on the salarian's face as he saw the full payment come through his terminal gave me a feeling of satisfied vindication. After all, in hindsight I would have thought he would have called security on me.

After that debacle, the only thing of note was the food. I hadn't eaten all day on the Citadel and I had not drunk anything except for water that a few vendors had given me unhappy looks for ordering; I probably didn't spend enough money to keep them happy. Before that I had not eaten properly since before the dungeon. The entire time I was in there, if the food hadn't been messed with or tainted then it was something bland with only enough nutrients to keep me alive. There wasn't any taste to speak of. So when I got the food through room service, I found that I couldn't eat it… not without throwing up anyway. It was too rich for me and my stomach couldn't handle it. In the end I nibbled on some bread that I had smeared with a tiny bit of a sweet tasting cream and did my best to not throw that up too. So now I had the added challenge of needing to get used to food again. Oh joy. At least the in-suite spa was great. Somehow the jets seemed perfectly placed to hit my aching muscles.

The hanar tailor was able to supply me with a few respectable formal and semi-formal suits that were in fashion. Now I could fit in once I found a barber. Luckily the hanar was able to recommend a drell friend of his in a high end salon that wasn't too far from the hotel. That was my first stop the next day.

Before I knew it my beard was gone and my hair was nice and short. When I looked in the mirror I finally started to feel like a person again, albeit an extremely scarred one. It had been months since I felt that way. Normal, or nearly so. I feel my eyes water at an almost overwhelming realisation that things were finally over and that life was giving me a chance to move on. It was an oddly existential moment that was thankfully interrupted when the nervous drell thought that I was crying because I wasn't happy with his work. After reassuring him that it had nothing to do with him, I left after giving him an extra thousand credits.

After that I went back to the hotel suite. This time as I passed through the lobby in my new expensive suit and my clean-shaven face, the looks I got from the asari and human females in the lobby common area were much more appreciative. None looked at me with the disgust and superiority that I had received the night before. Regardless, I ignored them all and went up the elevator.

I had always considered the elevators in the game to be some sort of practical joke, or as a way of having a loading screen without needing a loading screen. As it turns out, no. The elevators were really unfortunately slow. I think I may need to take the stairs from now on if I am going to get to places in a timely manner.

Once I was back in my room, I started planning things out. Manuel hadn't been lying when he said that I had thought of a few things to do about what I would do in this situation. The hard part would be implementing them. Not just that, but there would be things I needed to do that I don't want either Cerberus or the Shadow Broker to find out. That is going to be tricky. I think pushing up the timing on having Liara become the Broker might be the best thing for me. If I can save her mother that might give me the extra help to make that happen.

For a good hour, I considered making an appointment to see the asari councillor. Of talking to her and trying to convince her to get proof of the reapers from the beacon. It was never in any of my plans to do that, but now that I am here it would almost seem too easy. I make the appointment, have a quick chat about the beacon in Athame's Temple and she gets things going with the preparation for the reapers. As I said: easy.

But I didn't. Not yet anyway. Too many unknowns at this stage. I had no position of power. I mean, sure, best case scenario, she believes me and things go into overdrive as far as plans go. Worst case scenario, I am made to 'disappear' and my time in this galaxy is over extremely quickly. Not to mention that if these preparations are discovered by Saren or the Reapers then they could rush through a lot earlier and I would have no time at all to help set things up. Given how reluctant the councillors seemed towards action that might be seen as threatening, the most likely response would be denial. I could offer up my knowledge through a meld and show the truth, which would likely convince her. Would that be enough to convince the other councillors? Doubtful, especially the turian councillor, Sparatus. But Saren would likely find out, which means Nazara, or Sovereign, would kick things ahead of time which would equal bad news.

So, I decided against that course of action for now. I needed to get at least some evidence and that meant proceeding with the plans I had already thought of. To quote all of the great crime films, I would play the 'long con'. Even if this 'con' was to save the galaxy. Besides, I planned to talk to the Councillor Tevos about the beacon eventually so it wasn't as if I was ignoring that tactical option completely. In the meantime I would collect the things I would need.

There were two problems that I discovered in my hotel room that I had not planned for. Quite simply, the first one was the bed. I had spent the last nine months chained up in a room sleeping on a concrete floor with no padding. I lay down on that bed for five minutes and I had to sit up. The bed was too soft. I spent so many hours wishing that I had a bed to sleep in, instead of a cracked, solid grey concrete floor. Now that I had one, I couldn't get comfortable. I laid down and felt as if I was going to be swallowed in the feather blankets. It was too much. In the end, I solved that issue by taking the bedding off the bed and putting it on the carpet. It was softer than my old accommodations, but it was hard enough that I didn't feel uncomfortable.

The second issue was sleep itself. I tried to sleep that first night. Lying on the comfortable carpet it was easy enough to actually fall asleep. Then, I started dreaming.

It was almost as if my mind was reliving the worst parts of the last nine months. I woke up screaming "Jason!" I was covered in sweat and shivering. Once I realised I wasn't back in the cell but in possibly the nicest hotel suite I had ever stayed in, I let out a ragged breath and looked at the ceiling.

"Is it too late to ask for the dreams to stop?" I called out loud, hoping that Manuel would hear me. Nothing.

"Figures," I grumbled. I looked at the clock. I had only been asleep for just over four hours, but with the dream I had no desire to try going back to sleep again. So I got up and went back to my planning.

First thing was a ship. To be able to follow through any of my plans I would need a ship. I am thinking at least frigate size. The problem is that I don't know ships. I know about basic things such as military ship classes and such but other than that I had nothing. That meant that I needed a crew. A reliable crew. And a pilot. The best species when it comes to ships are the quarians. Logic told me I needed quarians. But I didn't want to only have quarians, I wanted to be able to branch out to have a multiracial crew. Maybe I could build up to that.

Getting the quarians was easy. Given what I knew about their Pilgrimage I figured there had to be a few hanging around the Citadel, and as they were looked down upon by the other alien species I guessed that there would be enough looking for work to respond to a job ad. Hiring the building for a week was no trouble. The asari matron that I had as a receptionist, whose name was Malaea, was found through a job agency. It was easy enough to organise. I just paid half again over standard wage and let her use her personal omni-tool during work hours. A week of that and she was already asking me to call her if I needed any other work done.

Among the quarians I had interviewed, there were five that really stood out. It was tough to narrow it down to three. I told the other two that I may need their services within the next month or two if they were still on the Citadel. In the end I chose the techie Hectar'Galon nar Isareel, a male engineer called Sel'Hara nar Fellir and a female engineer and ship specialist apprentice named Ely'Hael nar Qarat. All three of them seemed very unsure of themselves. None of them had much confidence when it came to dealing with me but they were all confident when it came to their work. Ely in particular seemed to go into a trance when it came to talking about ships in her interview.

In fact, that was why I was on my way to meet her now. Not that she knew that yet. I had merely organised for her to meet me in the Kithoi Ward to go over her first assignment.

I paced slowly through the ward near a monument that I had organised as the meet-up point. I kept walking, giving my legs a chance to improve. I was getting stronger every day, now that my body was becoming accustomed to moving around a lot again. I had even started to do sit ups and push ups. I wasn't doing many, not like I used to be able to do, but it was a start and I was already seeing improvement.

Right on time I see Ely coming towards me. Right away I notice the hostile looks aimed towards her from the turians in the area. Even a few asari narrow their eyes as she walks past. Ely didn't even raise her head, keeping her face cast downwards and her shoulders hunched. Clearly uncomfortable. That's something I am going to have to work on. That means I am going to have to get my head out of my arse to help her out, or as someone once told me 'fake it till you make it.' Time to perform.

"Hello, Ms Hael," I greet, putting on as warm as smile as I can, even if I don't really feel it. Not because I don't like quarians, I just am still not yet back into the feeling real emotions stage. "I'm glad you could meet me here so early."

"It's ok, Mr Neilson," she replied, rubbing her arm nervously as she looks up at me. "I am ready for work now."

"Good. And please, call me Brock. We are going to be working together for a while and quite closely. It would make me more comfortable to be on a less formal basis."

She looked up at me for a few seconds, her glowing eyes searching through her visor. "Ok… Brock. Please, call me Ely."

I give her a smile that actually starts to feel genuine. "Will do, Ely. Now, I am going to need your help on something. Something that I think you will do perfectly, more so than the others who I hired."

"Oh?"

"Yep," I confirm jauntily. "We are going to look at my ship."

She perks up considerably at that. "Really? What ship do you have?"

I can't help chuckling at the sudden enthusiasm in her voice and bogy language. "No idea. You are going to help me buy one."

She is almost quivering with excitement as we turn to walk to nearest second hand ship salesmen. I remember there is one with a side quest in ME2 that includes a volus that accuses a quarian girl but I don't remember exactly where that one is. Luckily, there are eleven approved second-hand ship merchants on the Citadel and three of them happen to be within walking distance of our meeting place. Two of them are closer together so that is the direction we go.

"So what sort of ship are you going to buy?" Ely asked, nearly skipping along next to me.

"Not sure really," I admit. "I want something that is at least a hundred and fifty meters long. A frigate sized freighter is what I am thinking. Something that I can extensively modify to include some self-defence weapons and armour, as well as make improvements to the engine. The main thing really is reliability of course. Something that will last a long time and will be able take a bit of turbulence if necessary. I don't want to run afoul of any mercs or batarian slavers that I won't be able to outrun or keep at bay. I won't be doing anything illegal so far as I know but we may not be near the safety of the Citadel or Turian patrol fleets for long periods of time and I want to be able to get away safely. And it has to be able to run on as small a crew as possible."

"What type of modifications are you thinking about?" Ely asked curiously.

"Thicker armour, for one. Some missile pods and maybe a Guardian defence laser, if I can afford it. The engine will probably be refitted at least or possibly expanded. I want to give it more power. I know frigates and corvettes usually go faster than cruisers and dreadnoughts but if I am buying a freighter then the odds of it having a great mass effect drive are probably pretty low."

"Keelah," she said, her tone thoughtful. "That's a lot of credits you are planning on spending."

I grinned. "Well, I won't be spending it right away. The first thing is finding something that will let me do all that. Which is why I have my fantastic ships specialist!"

She rubbed the side of her faceplate, clearly embarrassed. It was almost endearing, how open she was with her body language.

We make it to the first dealership and take a look at the stock on offer. The elcor standing next to the desk was friendly and polite. That weird thing where they state how the sentence is meant to be received at the beginning of said sentence was actually very helpful. It made it easy to guess his mood.

There was one ship there that caught my attention, an old turian freighter. Almost immediately Ely shot me down.

"No," she said firmly as I looked at the specs.

I looked at her. "Why not?" I asked.

"The turian _faeru-_ class freighters are always more trouble than they are worth," she said confidently. "The wiring is shoddy, the fuel economy is horrible, the welding on the inner hull joints are usually made from some weird iron composite alloy that rusts the inside of the ship faster than average. The fleet bought a few of them at a discount in a bulk purchase. We scrapped them all within five years because of how poorly they worked."

Well, if that wasn't a condemnation of a ship class then I don't know what is. If the quarians were unable to keep a ship flying then there is no way I would have risked it.

We headed over to the next dealership and looked at the listings. The worker was a salarian and I had to say that he reminded me of every used car salesmen I had ever met back in my time if they were advanced to next level creep. Pushy, slimy, trying hard for the sale. I felt like I needed a shower just talking to him. He would have made any greasy salesmen back home look like a priest.

Regardless, there were two ships that I put down as possibilities to come back to if we found nothing better. We then took a long walk to the third seller. It was a few kilometres down the Ward but it was a pleasant part of the Citadel so we agreed to walk it. I was happy. More leg exercise; I was still building my muscles back up after all.

We made it in decent time. We only stopped once and I disguised it as a drink break, doing my best to not let on that my legs were cramping again. After a drink of water for me and a dextro juice for Ely we kept going.

The ships at this place were much like the others. A lot of personal shuttles. An old asari corvette. There was even a small human freighter. Only one ship stuck out to me though and it was apparently a salarian _kirik_ -class medium freighter. I asked the asari maiden working there for details and made sure that Ely was paying attention. I didn't understand most of the technical mumbo jumbo. All I saw was the large open areas near the engine room, the living areas on the top third of the ship and the massive cavern in the bottom half that would be able to hold goods, be used as a research area or an awesome training den. Plenty of room to expand in there.

As we left I asked Ely her opinion.

"I think the medium freighter was alright," she said cautiously. "I still think the old asari troop transport that the salarian was offering might be a better option from what I understood of your preferences. But only an idiot buys a ship without a personal inspection so I would wait until we see them ourselves before you make a final decision."

I favoured her with a small smile. "Good thing neither of us are idiots."

She chuckled and rubbed the side of her face mask.

We checked out three more of the places on the Citadel before we decided to call it a day. None of the other places had anything that really stood out to me. Well, there had been a volus freighter that looked promising but I was persuaded to turn it down by Ely. Apparently the work required to remove the specialised environmental gear that is installed in every volus vessel to accommodate to their biology was more effort than it was worth. Maybe when I had more money from selling the eezo asteroids I could consider it.

As we were walking back to the closest rapid transit, making plans to meet up the next day to inspect the ships were had found interesting, there was a minor disturbance in the form of a small child. It was a little human girl, maybe about five years old. She came sprinting as fast as her little legs would carry her around a corner and collided with my leg and fell over on the floor.

I helped her to stand up and took a look at her. She had dark brown hair and hazel eyes but that wasn't what got my attention. She was filthy. She had dirt smudged all over her face and hands. Her fingernails were cracked and there was a scab on her left cheek. She had dropped a little brown package and a piece of fruit rolled out.

"Are you OK?" I asked. I had a feeling of what was going on here but I felt the need to double check.

The girl gave a nod and picked up her bag, shoving the fruit back inside.

"What's your name?" I asked, keeping my voice kind. I could feel my heart reaching out to the little girl. It was a mix of pity and desire to help the child, born out of the recent experiences I had had with my own.

Before the little girl could answer I heard someone yell out "Hey!" Almost before it registered, the little girl shot off and ran towards a duct in the wall, confirming my suspicions. She was homeless here on the Citadel. There was a little turian child already waiting there, holding the vent cover open for her. They disappeared inside just as a salarian vendor ran around the corner, almost colliding with Ely.

"Hey, watch it!" she shouted indignantly.

"Be quiet, suit rat!" he snarled as he righted himself.

He started to look around only to find himself dragged off balance as I got two fistfuls of his shirt and pulled him towards me.

"You are insulting one of my employees, you little gecko!" I growled in his face, the rage quick to come out again. I did my best not to show it but I wasn't really strong enough yet to keep him in that position long. Good thing that salarians are lighter than most other species. "So I suggest that you apologise before I see if the closest krogan enjoys his salarian liver raw. So calm down, be polite and tell us what the problem is."

The salarian's already bug-eyes looked like they were about to leap out of his skull. "S-s-sorry!" he stammered.

"Say it to her," I snapped, gesturing towards Ely with a nod of my head. I felt my arms starting to burn with the salarian's weight. I couldn't hold him forever and I had the feeling that if he found out that I wasn't strong enough to stop him, he would probably lose his current fear.

Luckily, he twisted his head towards Ely immediately. "Sorry, miss," he gasped.

I let him go and he stood up fully. He ran his hands over his uniform and smoothed out the wrinkles from where I grabbed him. "A small du… homeless child, a human girl, just stole some fruit from my store and ran this way. I locked up as fast as I could and chased after her. The last I saw her she was running around this corner. Did you see where she went?"

I pretended to look thoughtful for a moment then waved my arm off further down the path, away from the vent. "I think I saw her run off that way but I didn't really pay attention. I can't see them now though so I think she must be long gone or found a place to hide."

"Dammit!" the salarian exclaimed. "That was Thessian sqeesh. It's some of my best and most expensive fruit!"

"Well," I said evenly, "as unfortunate as that is, it does not excuse your bad manners to my employee when you ran into her. However, I am sure that a one off discount on some of your goods will be sufficient to make amends for your impolite words. Ely, follow him to his workplace. I just need to do something quickly and I will catch up to you."

She nodded and the salarian vendor, clearly still unhappy, led the way back to his store. She held back for just a moment and whispered "Thank you" before heading after him.

As soon as they were out of sight I let out a big slow sigh. When I confronted the salarian I had almost let my rage take control. Last time that happened… well, that was just before Manuel had appeared. I couldn't let that happen at the wrong moment or I would definitely do something I couldn't take back and which I would regret.

I walked casually over to the duct and leaned against the wall, not looking at the vent. I leaned towards it and listened for a moment. Sure enough I heard shuffling. Someone was close to the entrance. A small click made me turn towards it and I saw the vent came out slightly from the wall, no more than a hand span. A recently familiar brown eye peeked through the gap. Good, I thought the girl might have left. I guess she stayed to watch the show.

"Hi," I said, giving the girl a soft smile. "Why don't you stay in here for a little while in case the man comes back. I will be back soon with some drinks for you and your friend. OK?"

The eye moved up and down slowly as the girl nodded her acceptance. Then she disappeared from sight and the vent clicked back in place.

I took a moment looking at the vent. I thought about something I remember Captain Bailey saying in ME2 about the kids in the vents. Duct rats, he called them. The kids that the galaxy has forgotten. I remembered the part about how the kids sometimes just ended up dead while others ended up spaced. I had always had a soft spot for kids. I had even done volunteer work at different youth groups. Now I just happen to run into a homeless kid on the Citadel? Something told me that Manuel may have had something to do with this.

I looked at the place the girl had disappeared and in my mind's eye I had an image of her dead, cut up by a ventilator fan. Well, that decided it. It wasn't part of my original plans but maybe there was something else I could do here. It wasn't Jason, but it was a start.

With my mind now busy making more plans, I set off after Ely.

…

 **A/N Follow/Favourite if you like; up to you. Constructive criticism is appreciated. Trolls are ignored.**

 **Lots of filler, I know, but setting up the story is important too. Once the intro chapters are done the pace will pick up.**

 **I am looking for suggestions for the name of the ship. If anyone can think of a cool name then send it in and I will choose the best one. Either through PM or in the review, either works.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N I own nothing. Mass Effect is owned by Bioware**

 **Wow thanks for the response to the last couple of chapters! It is gratifying to see that people are liking and reading this thing all over the world.**

 **Sorry for taking a couple of extra days to get this out. Exam period is over now. Can't guarantee that things aren't going to slow down in the future but I will try to keep it regular.**

 **Comments:**

 **Mouse the Annon: Don't worry, the pieces are coming. Hopefully I do this right!**

 **frankieu: Thanks. I hope I don't disappoint.**

 **I am nuber Five: Thanks. I like you too.**

 **betapike: Glad to have you along for the story!**

 **Blaze1992: Hmmm. That is a fair statement. This story is going to have some dark parts. Obvious, considering the opening chapter. They are going to be brought into it in the next few chapters but after the exposure things move on. It will be brought up again from time to time but not focussed on too much unless it is necessary for the story. If I only focussed on it over and over again then I think it will get boring and depressing after a while. I may change the rating for this for purely for the reveal chapters as it may be a little dark. If that turns you away then sorry. I hope you stick around though as I am sure that you would enjoy it otherwise!**

 **Guest-Questioner: I know filler is important. Stories need to be built with context, otherwise the reader has no idea what is going on. The problem I am facing is 'am I writing too much?' I am trying to give the appropriate level of information and keep it interesting without rambling.**

 **Guest: I know. Don't worry though, more is going to be revealed soon! Maybe as early as next chapter.**

 **Jotun: Thanks. As to letting die, that depends on whether or not the readers keep wanting the story. If people stop wanting to read it then the motivation to keep writing it will go down, I imagine.**

 **ErzherzogKarl: Thanks. The geth are going to play part of the story later. Not entirely sorted out on how yet but they will.**

 **Artyom-Dreizehn: Thanks! I have deliberately avoided saying one way or another on the Shepard identity. The choice has been made but it will be there.**

…

 **CHAPTER 5 – UNDER WAY**

I looked on at the last of the work that my quarian workers were doing, satisfied that my first plan was off to a positive start.

I had ended up taking the salarian _kirik-_ class medium freighter. All it had taken to inspect the two ships offered by the greasy salarian salesman was five minutes aboard each one before both Ely and I had seen more than enough to turn away from what was essentially overpriced space scrap. I had a strong feeling that either of those ships would have shaken themselves to pieces just taking off from dock.

But the salarian freighter was clean, looked to be well made and maintained and was large enough to do what I wanted to do for one of my bigger plans later. At three hundred and twenty meters long, a hundred meters high and a hundred and forty meters wide, the ship was almost a perfect rectangular prism, except with smooth edges. The living quarters that occupied three floors in the top thirty meters of the ship. The cargo bay was _huge_! Well, as far as I was concerned anyway. It was essentially a massive cavern that ran the entire length and width of the ship. It opened up from the front through some massive doors built into the nose of the ship. That worked well for what I had planned later.

The mass effect core was a lot smaller than I had imagined it would be. I guess I kinda let the size of the engine that you could see in the _Normandy_ be my measuring stick for how large the engines really are in ships here. Turns out I was very wrong. I mean, I remember the Admiral that inspects the _Normandy_ at the Citadel saying that it had taken billions of credits just for that engine, but even so I was not impressed with the engine core on my new ship. The thing was only a sphere that was about one and a half meters of glowing eezo in diameter. I was immediately concerned with how the ship would perform in terms of speed and manoeuvrability. I realise I have absolutely no understanding of element zero physics, but this was a freighter more than twice as large as the Normandy, that was meant to carry large amounts of cargo. Sure, it was not a military ship, but that didn't mean I wanted it to go too slow or be too ponderous in the turns. Upgrades to the engine would be one of the first things I would insist on once I had the credits.

I had also found a pilot. It was an asari maiden by the name of Aleria N'Tavis that had wanted to come on an adventure, but wasn't interested in stripping or becoming a mercenary and was surprisingly unobjectionable to working with quarians. At the rather young age of one hundred and thirty-five she was already starting to feel like she was missing out on exploring her maiden years to their full potential. She was very easy on the eyes and very chatty, but only with me. If she wasn't shamelessly, but harmlessly, flirting with me then all she was interested in doing was sitting in the cockpit getting used to the controls. I think it put off Sel'Hara when he had tried to flirt a little too obviously with her a little and she completely ignored him. I did give me a little smile of amusement to watch it though.

Right now, the three quarians were finishing calibrations on a geological sensor suite upgrade that I had purchased. Well, Sel and Ely were. Hectar was currently trying to finish programming a ship VI that I had asked him to make for me. Honestly, the nervous techie was a wizard when it comes to programming. I had only had him as an employee for a week and he was certain he could have it finished today. Another day to install and set up in the ship and we could be on our way.

He had been very nervous about making the VI too advanced. I understood perfectly. After all the issues that the quarians had because of the geth, an advanced VI was probably pushing it a little far for their liking. I assured him that I only wanted a VI that would follow instructions, not to think for itself, which calmed him down a lot. I had no interest at this stage of having a self-aware computer in charge of my ship. Maybe later, but not right now.

The extra week for installation helped me get a few other things that I needed to sort out as well. For me to be able to put my plans for the next few years into effect, it all begins with the groundwork. Things that are an absolute pain in the neck to deal with but still crucial despite how bureaucratically slow the process is.

So that means permits.

I know. Not what anyone really has in mind when they think about saving the galaxy.

The problem is that the government restrictions here in the ME universe are a lot tighter for corporations than I want them to be, yet confusingly open on an individual scale. For example, I can research and build an assault rifle on my own without any problem, as long as I don't carry it around with me on the Citadel. I can have one on my own ship or even keep one in my private rooms but I can't carry it with me without a permit. But if I want to sell it, or make more than one, I have to be listed as a Citadel approved corporation. If I was to operate in the Terminus systems then it wouldn't really be a problem, other than having to face off pirate and mercenary attacks, deal with slavers and so forth. Even then, I wouldn't be able to sell it legally to any Council race or military without that race being seen as illegally funding the Terminus. That would be a breach in Council law and brings a lot more complications. Sure, the batarians probably wouldn't care that much but they would probably be the only Council race that would work with me and I _really_ don't want to give an advantage to the race that is most likely to use the tools I am going to create, or reintroduce in certain cases, to enslave the other races.

As a result, my company Shieldstar Corp was born. Fitting name, if a little bland. Not the best, I know, but honestly I couldn't come up with anything better in the ten minutes that I was thinking about it.

Still, despite the annoyance of paperwork, most of which I have been provided by the local Citadel Business Directorate office, the process of setting up a corporation that is designed to do what I want it to do is relatively painless.

So, what do I want my corporation to do? Build weapons, of course. And weapon platforms, of the orbital variety. Among other things like exploration, trade and customise starships.

Unfortunately, the process of applying for the licences costs tens of thousands of credits, and that is before I even hire any extra staff to do it.

Money is starting to run thin. I had managed to get the turian reward for those batarians which gave me an extra four hundred thousand credits. It was a much needed boost. Buying the ship, fitting it out, incorporating a company, hiring crew… all that costs money. With the extra credits, I still had about seven hundred and fifty thousand to use. I didn't want to use it all yet, just in case. There were plenty of projects that I had planned so I needed plenty of capital for them.

Then there are the Citadel waiting periods on permits. Having gained a firearms licence in Australia, I had assumed that the twenty-eight day waiting period, or 'cool off' periods as they know it, was a long time to wait. Oh no. Those pesky local bureaucrats in Australia had nothing on the Citadel. Once I handed in the proper forms to the Business Directorate, I was informed that there would be a four month delay to process my application and to determine that my application fee was in order. Granted, a weapons permit wasn't the same as a weapons company permit, but even so it was a long wait. I was only able to convince the turian sitting at the desk to cut the time down to three months by subtly giving a ten thousand credit handshake. It maybe wasn't the most honest thing to do, but I am running on a time sensitive schedule.

"Mr Neilson," I heard Hectar say, drawing me from my thoughts.

"Hectar, I thought I told you to call me Brock," I said with a friendly reproving tone.

The quarian rubbed his hands together nervously. "Uh, yes sir," he mumbled, not looking me in the face. "I just wanted to tell you that the VI for the ship is finished. Just liked you asked for."

I gave him a small, genuine smile. The VI I had asked him to build was similar to a standard ships VI. It would inform me of incoming calls, not that I expected there to be any yet, keep track of internal communications, monitor ship systems and so on. The custom bits that I had asked for were slightly more advanced. I wanted it to be able to control the communication port and run monitor and tracing of any omni-tool on the ship, run calculations and have it wired to the galactic market. It also needed to be able to run a decent autopilot program so that our main pilot could sleep during our trips. There were a few other custom modifications to it, such as changing out of the monotonous voice, but that was the main things. The only reason it took almost a week was that I had Hectar make it from the ground up. It was his work and his work alone.

"Excellent," I said. "Have a short break and then get started on the installation. I want that thing ready to go tomorrow."

He nods and heads off, probably to get some lunch. While there is no actual night or day on the Citadel, there is a cycle that is followed as if there were a night and day. According to that cycle it was about lunch time were we were.

Thinking about food reminded me of something. I sent a message off to Aleria and asked her to meet me at a retail district nearby. The young asari was probably sitting in the cockpit organising things to meet her preferences. She had been there a few times, adjusting the holo-monitors, switching things around or just clearing out unnecessary panels. I didn't mind so long as it looked clean when I went in. She almost brought up the idea of removing the co-pilot chair but I refused immediately. I planned on sitting in the thing and learn how to fly my ship at some point and I wasn't going to do that from the navigation console.

I got a quick acknowledgement and decided to walk there first without waiting, thinking about how things were going. I had been here for about two weeks now and, as things stood, I had a ship, the makings of a crew, the knowledge of some very valuable resources and a plan to use them. Not a bad start, if I do say so. And it only came at the cost of complete and total mental and physical scarring.

I shook that thought out of my head. I knew that if I focussed too much on what happened to me then I was lost. I had to do this. For Jason.

I arrived at the shopping area and started looking around to take my mind off the darker topics that tended to rudely invade my thoughts if I wasn't careful. This shopping district, due to its close proximity to the dock, specialised in shipboard supplies. I had already bought a lot of things here to help the outfitting of the ship, under the guidance of my resident asari and quarians. Being a newcomer to space travel, I was obviously still learning what constituted as vital for long journeys. Luckily, bedding is a universal requirement so I had that one figured. I had gone with real metal-frame beds, not the sleeping pods that most ships needed. After all, plenty of space with only a small crew allowed for some perks.

"Hey boss!" a familiar, supremely cheerful voice interrupted my window shopping. I turned to see a slightly purple asari maiden making her way directly towards me. A few heads turned to watch her pass, mostly human and turian males. Aleria seemed to have that effect, but that's not why I chose her. It was because she was a qualified pilot that had promised to teach me to fly my own ship. It's going to save me a lot of money on lessons. Can't complain about that. Still, the cheerful nature was contagious. Even with my perpetually grim nature, I couldn't help but feel better in her presence and that is not something to be underestimated.

"Hello, Aleria," I replied with a nod.

She walked over and linked her arm with mine and we started to walk through the district.

"So, what are you buying for us today?" she positively cooed.

"Well, I think it is about the last thing that we need," I replied evenly. "We are fully fuelled, have bedding, an upgraded sensor suite, a mini vid centre and all our amenities, even a new high quality gym. But we are missing possibly the most important thing."

Aleria looked at me with a puzzled look on her face as I stopped in front of a specific store. "What's that?"

I nodded at the store. "Food."

Her soft purple face lit up as we made our way inside. I honestly had no idea about food fit for space travel. Two weeks into living in this universe and I am still trying to adjust to sugar. Too much of it makes me sick now in a way that I hadn't ever really had before. Not to mention the whole 'never actually been on a spaceship before' element that couldn't be overcome without raising a lot of questions I didn't want to answer. I just hoped it wasn't too different from being on an airplane or a boat.

Luckily, my problem was not an issue for my cheerful asari pilot. She seemed to know the best foods for levo-based species. We didn't really have any experience in dextro-based foods but luckily there was a turian working the counter so she was able to recommend a few types of nutrient pastes that the quarians would be able to, well, maybe not enjoy, but tolerate for a few weeks before we made it back.

The only personal thing I really wanted to get was easily procured on the way out. It was also the only thing that I actually carried with me. A bottle of wine in a small box. I didn't care about the year or vintage. It wasn't for drinking.

"So, boss," Aleria said as we walked back to the ship. She had linked her arm into mine again. I guess we probably looked like we were in a relationship, a lovely couple going for a walk. A nice image, maybe, but a relationship was definitely not something I was ready for. Not for a long time, most likely. "I noticed that you haven't actually said where we are gonna go once we leave the Citadel. Feel like sharing that information with your most attractive crew member?"

I turned my head to look at her, seeing the mischievous grin on her face. "I realise that I may not be the best person at telling this, Miss N'Tavis, but are you flirting with your employer?"

She gave a light laugh. "Now, Mr Neilson, that would be most unprofessional of me," she mock protested. "But I notice that you failed to answer my question."

I couldn't help giving her a small smile. The young asari just exuded brightness. Even if she turns out to be a mediocre pilot, I don't think that I am going to regret hiring her. Hell knows I could use some brightness in my life. I couldn't bring myself to feel any romantic feelings at the moment but a cheerful presence is a cheerful presence. Morale would not suffer on this trip. I might even get a few laughs at Sel going in for a second shot with the bubbly purple girl.

"Well, Miss N'Tavis," I continued, "we are going to be making a retrieval mission for some cargo that we are going to be able to sell to the highest of all bidders."

Her smile lost some of its shine and her brow furrowed into a tiny frown. "You mean… smuggling?" she asked, sounding nervous.

I raised my eyebrow at her, feeling a little defensive. I felt a little twitch of anger that I quickly squashed. She didn't mean anything by that, I could tell. I probably just left it too open for interpretation for her.

"Not at all, my little violet pilot," I reply as reassuringly as I can. "We are going to claim some new goods that we can sell directly to governments. And trust me; this is something that governments would fight each other for. I will give you a hint: it as something to do with the geological sensor suite that is being installed by out dextro friends as we speak."

Her face cleared up. "We are hunting for minerals?" she asked, the doubt gone from her voice as she looked at me, her expression playfully curious.

I gave a small nod as I looked forward again. "Of a sort," I replied casually. "Something that will make governments desperate if they find out. It's the lifeblood of their very technology."

I wasn't looking at her but I could feel her stiffen next to me through our intertwined arms.

"Eezo?" she whispered excitedly. "You found some eezo?"

I smiled without looking back to her. "That, my little lilac fairy, is what we are going to find out."

+++

I stood outside the airlock of my ship, at its loading dock in the Kithoi Ward. The dock looked like the loading dock you land in on the Presidium in ME1 where the outside of the ship was accessible from the catwalk and not separated by glass like it is in ME3. We were finally ready now that the last few things I had requested be fixed had been finished and the VI now fully installed. All items for the ship had been delivered and were where they needed to be; beds in sleeping quarters, gym gear in the massive cargo bay, food in the galley and so on. Facing me was the rest of my admittedly small and slightly unconventional crew. Three quarians and an asari. Despite me still having a lot of numbness interspersed with bouts of anger, I can't help feeling that this a little bit momentous. According to Manuel, I have the ability to have a real impact in the fate of the galaxy. I _knew_ that I was going to be having a massive impact on the technology here. And it is all starting with a medium freighter, myself and four small and, relatively speaking in Aleria's case, young aliens. It seemed momentous somehow.

I gave them a nod to begin, getting three nods and a smile in return.

"Well, seeing as we are about to begin our little journey together," I said, my voice calm and steady, "I thought it fitting to do something that has been a tradition for humans for at least the last half millennium, long before our industrial age." I picked up the bottle of wine, and kept it unopen in my hands. I know that technically this is supposed to be champagne but all things considered that was a minor detail.

"The tradition dictates that when a ship is sent out on its first sail, or flight in the space age, it is christened by smashing a bottle of alcohol over the bow," I continued. "I know that this isn't a new ship, or even a human-made ship, but thanks to our tech specialist," I gestured to Hectar, "it has at least been given a new name. So, I would like you to join me in celebrating the newly named _Hidden Enterprise._ "

I turned around on the catwalk and threw the bottle of wine as hard as I could at the bow. The bottle spun lazily and smashed against the steel hull, bit of glass and liquid falling below. The crew clapped cheerfully with a surprising level of enthusiasm from the quarians, but I guess that ships were a really big thing for them so it probably shouldn't have been unexpected.

"Without any further ado, let's get on board!" I proclaimed.

A cheer sprung out of both Ely and Aleria and I turned around and led the way into the ship. I turned left towards the cockpit with my excited pilot, Hectar moved towards the sensor suite to begin calibrations and Sel and Ely headed to the engine room. As I took my seat I finally felt something positive.

For the first time, I finally felt like the journey had really begun.

 **…**

 **A/N Follow/Favourite if you like; up to you. Constructive criticism is appreciated. Trolls are ignored.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N I own nothing. Mass Effect is owned by Bioware**

 **I am not going to lie: this chapter was hard to write. The main reason is that trauma affect everyone differently and I was mindful of you, the readers, when I wrote this. I didn't want this to be overwhelmingly dark but I wanted to give a decent amount of backstory as a set up for the full disclosure which is coming soon. The hardest part of this chapter was trying to not put too much in but then knowing what to take out. As I said, this was not an easy chapter. Either way, I hope that I didn't disappoint with it.**

 **Comments:**

 **frankieu – I know, paperwork is a form of torture.**

 **Artyom-Dreizehn: Glad you enjoyed it. Yeah, the MC is playing a lot of catch up seeing as he only has two years.**

 **dekuton – I am glad you enjoy it. There will be more nicknames that come up through the story for different characters.**

 **Glrasshopper – Ask and you shall receive. Actually, it was coincidental but isn't it great how those things work out sometimes?**

 **sGuesty Guest – You are not far wrong with some of it. But two years is not a whole heap of time in business so eezo is better sold at this stage.**

 **Guest - Thanks**

 **Hope you all enjoy!**

…

 **CHAPTER 6 – FACING DEMONS**

The _Hidden Enterprise_ was turning out a little how I expected it so far. A ship larger than a frigate, smaller than a cruiser with an undersized mass effect core. The sublight thrusters were apparently standard for a freighter this size, according to Sel, but they felt like they were too small to push it at a speed that I was hoping for. All told it meant that I was going to be doing some major refits on this tug boat once I had the credits to it.

I sat in the CIC which, unlike the turian designed _Normandy_ , was in the same space as the pilot. The 'cockpit' where the pilot sat was not what a standard human cockpit would look like. It was more like a sea faring naval vessel from home, in that it was about halfway along the ship and slightly raised so that the viewports could see everything in a three-sixty field of view. It wasn't quite large enough for me to think of it as a bridge. It was large enough to be both a CIC and a pilot station but considering that this ship was running with a total crew of five and only a max of four would fit in the cockpit, 'bridge' just seemed too much for this little freighter.

I took a look at the console in front of me. Something I had noticed about the holographic consoles in the game was that they were extremely fuzzy and had always looked like they would cause a headache just by staring at them. Reading them looked impossible. In real life, they were a lot clearer. They were not quite as visible as the terminal screen I had in my personal room. The OLD, or organic light display, was basically just a really, really clear TV screen. All holo displays were not as clear in their quality but they took up less headspace.

The holo display I had here was a much smaller version of the galaxy map that the _Normandy_ has in its CIC. It wasn't as detailed when it was on stand-by but it was able to bring up all planets and systems when I typed them in.

Speaking of which, I thought for a moment about the information that Manuel had planted into my head: the location of eight eezo asteroids. Almost instantly I had the coordinates, as clear as if I had memorised them all by heart. I brought up the coordinates screen on the navigation display and typed four of them in randomly. I was _really_ happy that I had Ely teach me how to use this. Otherwise I would have just felt stupid and useless. Different galaxy or not, I kinda figured it would be odd if I knew nothing about how the tech works here. Thankfully some of it was pretty basic. For example, the navigation console. I could figure out how to input coordinates without any difficulty. Other parts were beyond my comprehension

I looked at my four options in front of me. Yeah… I had no idea what to do next.

"VI," I called out. "Calculate which of these coordinates is the fastest to get to and arrange them in order of time required to travel, shortest to longest. Set start point for each journey as Citadel."

A pleasant female voice spoke back. "Affirmative."

Aleria looked over at me with a sly smile. "That's an awfully feminine voice you have there, Mr Neilson," she said coyly. "And here I was thinking that you only needed my voice to keep you interested."

I shook my head at the playful maiden's words. "Well, one day you might leave me," I deadpanned. "If that happens then I thought I would need a backup plan. But that reminds me; VI, accept new designation Holly."

"New designation Holly accepted, Captain Neilson."

Aleria raised her brow ridge appraisingly. "Holly?"

I shrugged. "It's from an old science fiction program that dates back long before we humans had mass effect tech. I loved that show."

Aleria laughed and turned back to her task of weaving through the incoming traffic. "So where are we headed for our maiden voyage?" she asked, her voice curious.

My console pinged and the coordinates came on as I asked. I highlighted the first one which brought up a few options. One of them was 'send to'. I selected that and sent it to the pilot's chair. "We will go here first," I said. "Then we can see if we have the correct information." I figured it was easier to pretend that I had been given a lead than saying that a celestial being planted the information into my head.

Aleria looked at the coordinates and did something on her screen. "Looks like we will get there in approximately eighty-seven hours," she remarked casually as she steered the ship towards the appropriate mass relay. "Three jumps by relay that will only take about twelve hours, then a nice long FTL trip into space that isn't necessarily uncharted, but at the very least ignored due to the fact that it is more than twenty light years away from a relay point." She turned back to face me with a grin. "You know how to take a girl to the nicest places."

I gave a small grunt of amusement. "Take us out then, Miss N'Tavis," I said, standing up from my station and moving behind her. This being my first time and all, I wanted to be able to look out the forward viewport with the pilot when we reached the relay. If for no other reason than to say that I had done it.

It took nearly an hour to get to the relay. When we were about halfway I got a report from Sel down in the engine room, saying that the eezo drive core was running within acceptable limits. Ely cut through saying that they were going to make it better, much to Aleria's amusement and Sel's verbal chagrin. They were still arguing when I shut off the intercom.

The relay was truly impressive. Too bad it was the design of a race of genocidal biotechnic murderbots. The spinning glow of the core was visible a long time before the main structure was discernible against the black background of space. Sure enough, it looked vaguely similar to a rounded tuning fork with uneven tines. Another thing that the games got right.

"Thirty seconds to relay, boss," Aleria called out. "Moving towards it now, mass effect drive engaging."

The blue core of the relay started spinning faster as we approached, the ship turning to run parallel with the large alien tines.

I suddenly felt both slightly apprehensive and slightly excited as a stream of blue light streaked out of the relay core and engulfed the ship. A few moments later, a blinding flash and a slight tugging sensation was all it took. We were thousands of light years away.

The journey had officially started.

We were underway for about six hours when I decided to head off to my room for some sleep. Aleria had set the autopilot to take as at FTL to the next relay, where we were going to arrive in about five more hours, so she was off having a nap. Sel and Ely were in the engine room doing their best to squeeze every bit of juice they could think of out of the drive core and make the ship run more efficiently. Hectar was calibrating the geological sensor suite, trying to fine tune it for accurate readings. There was nothing for me to do.

It was about then that things started to go wrong for me.

I had set my bedding up on the floor next to the bed. Two weeks of staying in hotels hadn't helped me readjust to anything so like a mattress yet. I felt a little bit like Edmond Dantes from the Count of Monte Cristo, who slept on a stone floor after his release from prison. Granted, he was there for thirteen years and I was only nine months, not to mention he was a fictional character, but it made me feel a little better having a reference to compare to.

My 'mattress' consisted of a thick rug and was joined by a thin pillow and thin blanket. I had made some progress at least. When I first started at the hotel, I hadn't even used the pillow. Like I said: progress.

I still bought a proper bed for myself, holding out hope that I would be able to get back in the habit of proper sleep eventually. At the moment it was more of a decoration than anything, but also gave me something to hide my sleeping arrangements behind. I didn't want one of my crew to walk in unannounced and see it. Not because I was embarrassed. I just didn't want any awkward questions.

Anyway, I was lying down in my bed, preparing to have a sleep. I was actually quite comfortable, despite my sleeping circumstances. The red symbol on my door, showing that it was locked, was dimmed down by Holly to better facilitate sleep.

Then I turned the lights off.

 _Almost immediately, my mind transported me back into the dungeon. Chained to a concrete floor unable to see anything other than the light coming from a crack in the sole door. My head wouldn't shut off. I kept recalling the long periods of silence and I knew, I_ just knew _, that there was going to be someone coming through the door ready to beat me again. Footsteps were heading down the hallway, bringing with it my tormentors and the promise of more pain. Maybe the whips, or possibly the branding iron and the welder. Please, on all that is holy, whatever it was, don't let it be the hook again!_

I almost yelled out to the VI, Holly, to turn the lights on. Immediately my room became flooded with light and I was able to take in my surroundings. I sat with my head in my hands waiting for my heartrate to slow down and the slight headache that sprung up to go away. I couldn't help it but I was breathing hard like I had just gone for a run.

 _Where the hell did that come from?_ I asked myself as I looked around the room, trying to reassure myself that my torture was over and taking a few deep slow breaths. Once I had managed to settle myself I slowly lay back down and called for Holly to turn off the lights.

 _The face of the man leered down at me. His bushy beard nearly blocked out his mouth but the crinkling around his eyes told me there was nothing pleasant coming my way for this. Another man, this one wearing a blue paper suit, like I had to wear in the infectious disease ward at the hospital during a security sit, over his clothes was standing behind him, holding a tray in front of him._

 _The first man reached back and threw a vicious backhand that wrenched my head to the side and made my jaw pop._

" _Now," he growled, his voice excitedly malicious in a way that made my skin crawl. "We get to see how much pain it takes to make you cry."_

 _The man in the blue paper suit and I got to see the tools he had on his tray._

"LIGHTS!" I roared, throwing myself out of my bed and sliding back into the wall. My heart was pounding and the headache was back. I was breathing hard again and I felt frantic.

I put my head back in my hands as I tried to sort through my feelings. Rage, coupled with a sickness in my stomach, apprehension, a little fear, anticipation of horrible events, shame at my own weakness… all of it swirling inside me and threatening to send me into either another murderous state or a crumpled ball on the cool metal deck.

I sat there breathing slowly until my nerves calmed down slightly.

Honestly, once I had calmed down a little, I mostly felt angry but also a little confused. Angry with myself for letting the memories haunt me. Angry with the scum that had tortured me. Angry that I couldn't get to sleep. Confused that I had not been able to fall asleep here but I had been able to at least fall asleep in a quiet Citadel hotel room. It was all a weird jumble of emotions that I was struggling with and I had no idea how to handle it. It was one thing having the bad dreams, but this time, I hadn't even gotten to the falling asleep stage yet.

When I was in the cell I had had one goal: to get free and kill everyone that had made me suffer. I had succeeded… violently but with much pain on my end. All the people that had done this to me were dead. I still felt a little sick about those last few when I pictured what I did.

So why was my mind sending me back to that dungeon when I was sitting in this perfectly safe room?

I got up and sat on the edge of the bed. I was still tired but any chance at sleep seemed to elude me. Maybe some music would help calm me down. I had not actually just sat and listened to music since I got here. The only music I had actually heard was the generic elevator music and the jingles that were played through the sound speakers in the shopping districts.

"Holly, I said facing the ceiling. "Play some random music from Earth."

A random song I had never heard before came piping through the speakers in my room. The volume was at an easy level, the beat was fast and the tempo was upbeat. It sounded very similar to the pop music that I had heard on the radio back home.

I think I lasted all of thirty seconds.

"Holly, turn it off!" I yelled. I stumbled over to my little bathroom and stood in front of the sink. I was shaking and the reflection in the mirror was pale. Sweat was pouring from my forehead and I was gasping for air. I turned on the tap, rolled up my sleeves up past my elbows and started splashing my face with cold water. After a minute or so I turned off the water, grabbed the hand towel and held it to my face, blocking the room out.

 _Time of unknown length passed. I don't have a clue if it was still the same day or if a full week had passed. I hadn't been able to sleep at all for however long this had been going on. Occasionally someone walked through the door and gave me a sip of water or a piece of bread. They had to feed me as I couldn't do it while my hands were chained to a point in the ceiling. More often than not they punched me in the stomach as they left, making me vomit back up what they had given me. They never said a word. They just entered, did their thing and left. I am not sure I would have been able to hear them anyway. The only thing I could hear was that bloody music at nightclub volumes playing over and over and over…_

I pulled the towel down from my face and stared at the mirror. The sickness in my gut transformed into pure fury that demanded to be released. Those dickless wads had stolen music from me too!

With a roar, I whirled around and punched the wall over and over again. I grabbed the towel rail and with a jerk, snapped the fixture from the wall and started to smash anything within reach; the wall, the toilet, the sink. Luckily all three of those things were made of metal and were only left with scuff marks and dents. The mirror wasn't nearly as lucky as the shards of broken tempered glass littered the floor and the sink. I threw the metal hand rail through the bedroom where it hit the far wall and landed with a sharp _clunk_. Then I went back to the sink, feeling empty again as the fury subsided, leaving me with a broken bathroom and split knuckles.

I turned the water back on and started to wash the blood from my newly abused hands down the drain. As I did a knock came at my door and a familiar sounding voice came muffled through it.

Now I felt awash with guilt. Aleria had been asleep and now she was awake because I couldn't control myself. Man, I was a selfish prick.

"Holly, unlock the door," I called out, splashing water on my face again to try refresh myself.

The door opened up out of view of my little bathroom with a soft hiss.

"Hey, boss, everything all right in here?" Aleria called out, her voice sounding concerned.

I winced as I picked up the towel and shook the glass off it. I had woken her up and she came to ask if I was OK. She had every right to be more annoyed than she currently sounded. She deserved better than to work for me. It just made me feel worse about this whole situation.

"I am fine, Aleria," I called out, anxious to let her go back to sleep as I press the towel back to my face. I hear her footsteps coming closer. "I am so sorry for waking you up," I continue, my voice muffled by the hand towel. "It won't happen again."

There was a soft gasp nearby. "Goddess!"

I wince a little again as I realise she can now see the state of my bathroom. "Yeah, I know," I said grimly, pulling the towel away from my face and looking at the damage around the small room. "I will clean it up later."

Then I looked at her for the first time since she came into my room. She wasn't looking at the broken glass or the snapped towel rail.

She was staring at my arms.

I followed her gaze and looked at my arms. At the maze of white scars and myriad of small shiny burns that went all the way up both forearms. The large savage scars that circled both my wrists and trailed partially up the backs of my hands. The smaller lines across my fingers that spoke of other, more specific damage.

I realised suddenly that she had never seen these scars before, except for the ones on my fingers and my face. I had always worn long sleeved shirts anytime I wasn't alone. I even slept in them. In the two weeks since I had got here the only one that had seen even some of my scars past my hands had been the hanar tailor and it had probably been too polite to say anything about them. But this was Aleria's first time, and I had woken her up to see them. That just made me feel worse. I knew that it was likely that the others would see the scars at some point, but not under these circumstances. Certainly not when I was going through… whatever this was.

I started to reach up to unroll my sleeves back down my arms. Almost before I noticed her move, Aleria was by my side, gently holding my left forearm up for her inspection.

"By Athame," she breathed, softly. "What happened to you?"

I pulled softly against her hand, not managing to remove my arm from her grip. "Nothing good," I replied stiffly. I didn't really want to get into this.

Her hands traced their way up my arm reaching the border of my sleeve. "How far does it go?" she asked, beginning to tug at the material to expose more.

Only to stop when my right hand clamped her inquisitive fingers tightly, preventing further access. I firmly, but not roughly, pulled her hand away from my arm and rolled my sleeves back down. I looked in her eyes. There was no judgement there at all. Only concern.

I let out a slow sigh. "All the way," I finally replied softly. I moved past her and went back into the bedroom proper. I walked over to where the towel rail had landed and picked it up. I couldn't put it back on; the arms had snapped through. I sighed again and threw the metal rod into the bin that was discretely placed in a wall culvert. I could feel Aleria's eyes burning into me before I turned around and saw her. She hadn't moved from the entrance of my bathroom. I wasn't sure what was going through her mind but could see that there were several emotions fighting for control on her face.

"How long ago?" she finally asked softly.

I didn't have to guess what she meant. "Not long enough, apparently," I replied, not looking her in the eye.

I moved over and sat down on the edge of the bed. I wasn't sure that I wasn't to talk about this. Scratch that; I _knew_ I didn't want to talk about this. At the same time, I didn't want to keep it all bundled in to fester inside of me. If there was anything I had learned about at all before I went through hell it was that if issues were not addressed, they became bigger issues. Trying to sort out pain early on was better than burying it. The same was true for wrongs between people; if a problem isn't resolved early then it can grow to the point where full resolution is much more difficult. Kind of like if a wound is left untreated it can become infected and is harder to heal.

Knowing this didn't make me want to talk about it anymore than I currently did, which was not at all. Still, Aleria was possibly the person I felt closest to on my crew, if for no other reason that her normal bubbly nature. Between that and the genuine concern that was almost palpably radiating from her, I felt that it might actually be safe for me to talk a little.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw her look around the room a little more. From her position in the bathroom door she had direct line of sight to the bedding I had lying on the floor.

"How long ago did you get out?" she asked softly, apparently having put two and two together.

"Something like fifteen or sixteen days ago," I said quietly.

"Is that all?" she sounded shocked but I still didn't look her in the face. For a moment I was impressed at how well the translators were able to put across verbally transmitted emotions. "It's not even been three weeks! What are you doing here, not in some hospital getting treatment?"

I shook my head slowly. "There is too much to do," I said softly, knowing that there was no way to explain what I was doing here. Not at this stage anyway.

"Too much to do?" she sounded confused and perplexed. "What do you mean?"

I just shook my head. Now was not the time for that. Even in my current state I was at least in control enough to know that.

I guess that she decided to accept my silence on to that question for now because after a moment she moved on to another question. "Was it the batarians?"

I gave a very small snort at the question. "No, everything done to me was done by humans."

"What? _Humans_ did that to you?"

I sighed, closed my eyes and fell back on my bed. "If a few scratches on my arms was all they did then I wouldn't complain."

There was silence, except for a few tentative footsteps as I heard Aleria move closer towards the bed. Towards me. She stopped right next to the bed. If I stretched out with my foot I could probably touch her.

"You know," she began, sounding hesitant, "my mother… her older sister, she is a counsellor. She did a lot of different things but one of the things that she worked as directly for nearly a century was helping people who had been rescued from slavery. They were people who had suffered trauma she was helping to reintegrate into normal society again. She often talked about it with me and helped me see what people are going through and how to help them. She used to tell me that with my cheerful nature I would be a natural counsellor myself if I wanted to head that way."

She paused for a moment. I opened an eye and looked at her. She was biting her bottom lip nervously. As she looked at me. "If you would like, I could organise for you to speak to her," she continued, clearly uncertain. "Try to help you deal with… everything."

I stare at her for a moment, unsure of what to say. "I wasn't a slave," I eventually say, not really sure of what to think.

"Maybe not," she conceded. "But you have clearly been through a lot. She may be able to help."

I think it over for a long moment. "I will consider it," I said after at least a full minute. "But the work comes first."

She looked a little exasperated. "Why? What is so important that you won't stop for treatment?"

I give out a long sigh and close my eye. "That is something I can't tell you yet," I said, dismissively. "But I promise that it will make sense later."

She is silent for a long moment. Then the bed shifts as she sits down on the edge, near me but not too close. "Can…" she halts. I looked over at her, with both eyes this time. She looked like she really wants to ask something but is clearly nervous. "Can I… uh…"

"See more scars?" I finish, looking her directly in the face.

She looked so nervous that I thought if I touched her arm she might just bolt out the door, but she nods.

I stare at her for a long moment, fighting against myself. The emotions are coming back again, the anger that I have to supress, the desire to be alone, the need to be helped. Just plain wanting the pain of it all to go away. And a small nugget inside me knew that kicking her out so that I could be alone wasn't going to make things any better.

"So," I said slowly. "What you are saying is you want me to take my clothes off for you. That's a bit forward, isn't it Miss N'Tavis?"

"No!" she exclaimed immediately. "That's not…" She stopped, seeing the slight quirk at the corner of my mouth.

"Did… did you just make a joke about this?" she asked incredulously.

I shrugged. "I used to be able to joke about that sort of thing," I replied, hearing the justification in my voice. "My old job taught me that sometimes the easiest way through the dark times was to laugh about it."

She looked sceptical. "What work did you do before… everything?"

I hesitate for a moment, before trying to answer. I figure that honesty might actually help me here. Just not _complete_ honesty. "I was a prison guard," I said.

She looked shocked. "Really?"

I cocked an eyebrow at her. "Why so surprised?"

She shook her head. "I just hadn't really considered that from the impression I got from you. But now that you mention it," she gives me a long steady look, "I think I could see you guarding criminals."

I give a grunt of amusement. "Well, I honestly probably wasn't a very good prison guard," I state casually. "Not that I did anything wrong but I was just pretty casual about things. I got more sexual advances from the prisoners than I got threats…"

Aleria gave a small snort of amusement. "I could see that," she said. A moment later she froze, realising what she had just said and blushing a dark plum colour. "Sorry, talk about inappropriate timing."

I waved off the apology. "Don't be sorry for making a joke," I assured her. "I once had to try and save someone's life when they collapsed at work. There were about seven of us guards trying to save this prisoner's life for about an hour before the doctors were able to come and declare him dead. A couple of the other guards were making jokes about his death _before_ he was officially declared dead. They didn't stop making jokes after he had officially died either."

She looked shocked again. "How could anyone be so callous?" she asked in disbelief.

I shrugged again. "It's the environment of the workplace," I said evenly. "Guards had to deal daily with people threatening to kill them, kill their kids, rape their wives, fight off gangsters, stop people killing themselves or those around them. Try dealing with a paranoid schizophrenic who is hearing voices saying that they have to kill everyone around them and eat them and come out of it completely unchanged. Because of this environment, we humans tend to develop what we call a dark sense of humour, where we joke about things such as death and other bad things. It's a coping mechanism. I don't know enough about the other races to know if there is anything similar or not. Maybe the krogan do it but I can't really see any of the others doing it."

"I… see," she said. She looked at me closely. "And you were able to make a joke, kind of like you did, uh, before?"

I cocked my head at her in surprise. I hadn't even noticed it. "I guess so."

She beamed brightly. "That's good!" she exclaimed. "My aunt said that if someone is able to return to behaviours that they did before the trauma it was a sign of improvement. Any small step was to be considered progress."

I consider that for a moment. I guess I can be happy with that idea. It still didn't make me look forward to going back to sleep. The idea of turning the lights off and going back to bed fills me with trepidation.

Aleria sees my face change and immediately puts her hand on my arm. "Hey, stay with me," she said, her voice soothing. She looks at me, staring intently. "So, back to my earlier question: can I see?"

I still don't know if I want this yet. "I don't know if you will handle it," I said softly, trying to dissuade her. "Or if you will be able to see me the same as before."

She shook her head. "I don't care," she declared resolutely. "I… I want to see."

I stared at her for a long moment. I had no idea what was happening but after everything that had happened so far, I was still in a state of mental flux. Slowly I sat back up and pulled off my shirt.

I watched her face the entire time as the material revealed more and more of my torso. As it did, her face got more and more pale. The plum from her earlier blush was replaced to a very faint lilac colour. I dropped the shirt on the bed and waited for her to respond.

She sat forward slightly, mouth open, her face a perfect picture of horrified. She reached out a tentative hand to the large scar on my right shoulder. The scar was almost in the shape of a jagged circle about the size of her palm.

"What…" she began, before shutting her mouth.

"A butcher's hook," I answered her unfinished question. I twisted slightly to show my back, and the matching scar there. "It went through both sides."

She looked like she was going to either faint or vomit as she dragged her hand back. She tore her eyes away and looked down. She focussed on a large shiny spot on the left side of my stomach, surrounded by a myriad of other lines and pits.

"A brand mark," I supplied, my voice surprisingly calm. "They used a welder's torch to heat up a cattle brand with their symbol then branded me with it. That was the only time they did my stomach. They did do my back a few times."

She started to look unsteady so I put my shirt back on. I had no idea of what I was supposed to feel right now. In all honesty, I had no real single feeling. My emotions were just a kaleidoscope of mixed sensations. I was feeling rage, sickness, vindication, emptiness, an odd sense of serenity, and weirdest of all, a small amount of relief that I had been able to share at least a small part of this.

"Who did this to you?" she whispered.

I shrugged my shoulders. "It doesn't matter," I replied.

Her mouth dropped open in shock. "How could it not matter? What's stopping those monsters from doing this again?"

I felt the edges of a vicious, almost evil, smile tugging at the edges of my mouth. "Because they're all dead." I can't help but feel a little amount of satisfaction, but an echo of self-disgust runs through my stomach at the same time.

"How?" she asked, looking bewildered.

I felt my smile become a little wilder. "I killed them. Every last one of them."

"Oh." She looked surprised for a second, before her face turned into one of understanding, compassion and a little bit of awe. "Well that explains how you are doing so well."

I looked towards my damaged bathroom. "I get the feeling that my towel rail doesn't agree. And I haven't had a night free of nightmares since I got out."

"Maybe so," she replied calmly. "But some victims that my aunt told me about were unable to even be around other people without having episodes. Others were completely catatonic for months. You seem to function normally around others. I think it is because you managed to kill them."

I couldn't help frowning at her. "What do you mean?"

Her face turned thoughtful, having finally regained her normal colouring. "My aunt told me that about one group of ex-slaves," she said. "It was a few turians and a couple of asari. They had managed to escape by killing their slave owner and his staff that had mistreated them. When they were back in normal society it was shown that they were able to function better than the others who were repatriated because they had been able to hurt their abusers. It gave them a sense of regaining their power that had been taken by their captivity. They were no longer helpless and the people that had hurt them were not able to hurt them anymore because they were dead. They still had some effect such as lack of sleep but their day to day functions were above expectations. At least, that's what my aunt said. I didn't really understand it at the time, but I think I do better now, after talking to you."

I took that in silence, comparing it to my current situation. I had never really been around anyone that had gone through anything similar to what I went through, so there was nothing I could really add to that. I guess in some way it made sense.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Aleria cut into my thoughts.

I shook my head. "I don't know. What is there to say? I was betrayed, kept in a dungeon for nine months and tortured, I watched them kill the only person that mattered to me in the end and when I was finally able to, I broke my restraints and killed them all. Now I can't sleep because being in this room feels like being back in that dungeon. And I can't listen to music because apparently those dicks ruined that for me too. That's all."

She looked around my quarters. "This place reminds you of your captivity?" she asked.

I shrug, looking around. "When the lights are off. The weird thing is that I wasn't affected by that when I was on the Citadel. But here it is too quiet and dark."

Her face turned thoughtful. "I think that is easily solvable. There is lots of light and sound on the Citadel. Even in apartments, where the sound is muted, there are the lights of the nebula, aircars and the Citadel itself which prevent it from being completely dark. It was the lights and sounds that helped you stop being there. This room," she gestured around my quarters, "has neither of those things and reminded you more of your time in captivity. Maybe only dim the lights to a comfortable level?"

It was as good a suggestion as any, I had to admit. "Thank you," I said. After this whole conversation, I was starting feel worn out. Like a deep, tired in the bones, feeling. I had opened up a lot here and it was taking a lot out of me. Looking at Aleria I could see she was nearly as tired as I was. It made me feel guilty all over again as I remembered she had been sleeping before I had woken her up.

"Holly," I called looking at the ceiling. No reason to look up to talk to the ships VI but for some reason I did it anyway, as if I was looking for a person to talk to. "Once we approach the relay, drop us out of FTL and keep us at station keeping two hundred thousand kilometres away from it. And make sure that there is nothing in our way that will collide with us. We don't want to do anything that will jeopardise the safety of the crew or the ship. We will hold there for five hours. If anyone asks say that it is to ensure that the whole crew has time for proper R&R before we make the next relay jump."

"Acknowledged, Captain Neilson," the synthetic female voice came through the speakers.

Aleria sent me a small, tired smile. "Thank you," she said. "Now, I need to get back to my beauty sleep."

She turned gracefully and headed back to the door but stopped just before she palmed it open. She turned back to face me.

"I'm sorry that they murdered your… partner," she said softly.

She turned back to the door but before she could open it I interrupted, sadness and anger lurching back in my stomach and pushing back the exhaustion temporarily. "They didn't murder my wife," I murmured softly from my seat on the bed. "They killed my son."

She stiffened and whirled back to face me, horror etched all over her pretty purple features.

"They murdered your child?" she whispered.

I laid back and closed my eyes, as if trying to warden off the emotions that were now threatening to spill out. I honestly had no idea if I would cry or scream until my throat was torn to shreds or simply go back to destroying my quarters. It was a pretty close three-way split. Fury, anguish and fear were battling for supremacy in my chest and I was trying hard to suppress all of it. It wasn't going well; I felt like I was going to explode.

"Yeah," I said, my voice croaky. "They killed him. They tortured him first, then they killed him. Right in front of me."

I let out a shaky breath. "His name was Jason."

I heard a thunk and opened my eyes. Craning my head, I could see that Aleria had collapsed onto her knees and was crying. I got up and walked over to her, helping her to stand up. We walked shakily together back towards the bed and sat down. Then I went and got her a cup of water from the sink. She accepted it with a shaky hand.

"I'm sorry," she gave a self-deprecating laugh. "You are the one that lost so much and yet I can't help crying."

I let out a quavering breath. "Don't worry, I have shed plenty of tears about it all already," I confessed. "Bringing it all up again like this… I might just let some more out."

She gave a shaky laugh. That caused me to smile a little. For some reason that made her laugh more. Before I knew it, we were both laughing. I had no idea what was funny but somehow, I couldn't stop, even when the tears that had been threatening to spill finally overflowed down my cheeks. We both had tears streaming down our faces and yet we both were laughing so hard that I was bent over and she was holding her sides.

We finally managed to stop laughing and wiped our wet faces. I gave one final chuckle. "Bugger me, I needed that," I said.

"What?" Aleria asked, wiping her own now plum-coloured face. "Bug you?"

I gave another chuckle. "No, no. It's just an old human saying," I said, shaking my head in amusement. "It's just an exclamation that we use to emphasise the next part of the sentence."

"I see," she said.

We sat on the edge of the bed in an awkward silence. I had no idea what to say. I just wanted to go to bed but I didn't really want to go through the whole round of bad mind-twisted self-torture again.

"Please, don't leave tonight," I whisper, barely loud enough for my asari pilot to hear. "Take the bed and I will sleep on the floor but I don't want to be alone tonight."

She flushed darker purple at the request. After a moment, she bit her lip and nodded.

I got back under the sheets I had placed on the floor and Aleria climbed onto the bed, pulling the duvet over herself. The lights were dimmed to about a quarter of normal and I lay there, waiting to see what would happen.

Nothing. Nothing at all.

Satisfied, and more than I little relieved, I rolled over and closed my eyes, falling asleep listening to the faint sound of an asari maiden breathing only a few feet away.

 **...**

 **A/N Follow/Favourite/Review as you choose. Constructive criticism is appreciated. Trolls are ignored.**

 **Now Jason has been revealed. Hope that wasn't a disappointing revelation!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N I own nothing. Mass Effect is owned by Bioware**

 **Well, the response to that last chapter was much better than I feared it would be. Darker chapters are not for everyone so I was a little worried about how I did.**

 **So, there might be a little break between this chapter and the next one. My laptop died and I am never buying a Lenovo again... That's the second one.**

 **However, as I had emailed most of the story to my work email, it was backed up there. I did lose a little bit but it hopefully won't take me too long to be able to rewrite it. I had done this chapter in advance so at least I can post this.**

 **Comments:**

 **frankieu - Thank you.**

 **deadtrooper - Thanks. Glad you liked the revelation. Also glad that the pacing was good. I wanted to cover everything and still make it feel like I wasn't going on too long.**

 **jdude281 - Thanks. I didn't try to have her become like Liara but I can understand the comparison. I think they are similar but Aleria is generally more of an extravert, at least to the MC.**

 **dekuton - Thanks. Nothing wrong with a good cry over something sad or tragic.**

 **Artyom-Dreizehn - Thanks. Didn't mean to make anyone cry but I guess it's great that you are enjoying the story. Also, I had not actually read Psi Effect before. I started after you mentioned it. I can see the similarities but I don't think I am going to make Aleria quite that... way.**

 **VODKA18 - Thank you. Hope you keep reading it.**

 **zapper25 - Yeah I knew going in that this was going to be heavy, at least for the first ten chapters, give or take. Good to see you are enjoying it regardless.**

 **Now, on with the story!**

 **...**

 **CHAPTER 7 – DISCOVERY**

I stared through the viewport of the cockpit, looking out at the streaky lines of FTL around us. I was feeling more than a little anxious as we were approaching the coordinates for the first eezo asteroid. In only a few minutes we would be coming out of FTL at the end of the long stretch. Once we had cleared the last relay there had been a hell of a long jump to get to our destination. At the slightly less than eight lights years a day that the _Enterprise_ could manage, that meant that it was about twenty-five light years from the relay. As Council settlement policy tended to discourage any settlement further than twenty light years from a relay, the odds of the eezo asteroid being randomly discovered by anyone else was astronomically low. Still, it meant that there was nearly three days travelling at FTL, once the need to drop out of FTL to vent the engine heat sinks was taken into account.

The last three days were, to my extreme surprise, much better emotionally for me. After opening up to Aleria I had my first sleep without nightmares since I had arrived in the Mass Effect universe. Eight blissful hours of uninterrupted rest. My average for the last two weeks before that was three and a half hours of nightmare filled horror that left me feeling like I hadn't gone to sleep in the first place.

Not only that, but I felt like some of the dark heaviness that seemed to have hung over me since I was taken out of the dungeon was lifted from me. I felt lighter. Less numb. It was a relief.

Aleria had left my room before I woke up. Not a word had been spoken about what I had shared, other than her telling me that she was available if I ever wanted to talk more about it. I didn't, but the thought was appreciated. As it was, I felt a little better than before. Words cannot describe how valuable that is to someone who has gone through what I went through. Yet, we hadn't even covered more than the basics. Just a couple of things like the death of Jason, the butcher's hook in my shoulder and the burns. Nothing else was really talked about. Hopefully, nothing else needed to be talked about. Though if it continues to be an issue then I might take Aleria up on her offer to talk to her aunt.

A lot of my time on the ship had been spent in the cockpit with Aleria learning how to fly my ship. While this little tug boat wasn't all that impressive yet, the controls seemed to be surprisingly straight forward. A lot of the pitch was adjusted with micro controls in the ship that operated automatically unless they were manually turned off from the pilot's chair. This stopped the ship rolling on its axis any time the ship was turned around. Aleria explained that this was common in freighters as even with the inertia dampers that existed on star ships, unexpected jolts could knock about sensitive cargo.

Other than learning to fly, I had spent hours in the massive cargo bay exercising. The length of the bay made it perfect to use for a running track to improve my endurance. Once the hull and internal bulkheads were taken into account, the internal length of the cargo bay was three hundred meters long, wall to wall, and a hundred and twenty meters wide. That makes quite the running track. Thanks to having purposely walked long distances every day for the two weeks I was on the Citadel, except the three days I interviewed people when my walks were cut short, my legs had once again become accustomed to being used. So, no cramping, which I cannot even begin to explain my relief for. I wouldn't be completely happy until I could do at least three full laps around without stopping. Seeing as I was just starting, I was barely managing to get around once. And that was with the weird half jog that I was doing towards the end.

I also was increasing my weights exercises. Before I had been captured I was able to easily bench press 110kg. Even with me doing an increasing number of push ups every day, I was only back to being able to do about 60kg in sets. Not enough. But it was a starting place. Then there were all the other exercises. I made sure that I was stretching properly before and after; otherwise I would be in all kinds of hell.

I wasn't the only one using the gym. I saw Sel and Ely down there at different times. They had organised their own schedules for working in engineering, which included using Hectar for a few hours a day so that they could get a proper rest. I didn't mind so long as he finished getting the geological suite calibrated and organised to be run from the bridge.

"Transition out of FTL in thirty seconds," my asari pilot announced, her intercom on to let Ely and Sel in the engine room know. I had already brought Hectar up to the cockpit to sit at the sensor stations to be ready to use the new geological sensors. He had only finished updating the monitor for the sensor station a few hours ago. The little guy was a machine. That is, if machines could be nervous about every single thing they did. Unless he was lost in his work, my quarian tech was as jumpy as a cricket on a hot plate.

The streaks of FTL faded back into the stars of real space, marking the end point of our jump. For a long moment I sat there, almost expecting the asteroid to be right in front of the ship. It wasn't.

"It looks like we are at the outskirts of a solar system," Hectar said. "I am reading one red dwarf star, four planet sized bodies, one of which is a gas giant. None of them appear capable of supporting life. They are all either too close or too far away from the star."

Now, I didn't know much about red dwarf suns, other than they were usually pretty cold as far as suns go. That and Superman would lose all his powers if he was too close to one, though that didn't help me here. But red dwarfs, from memory, were usually unable to attract too many planet bodies, because of the reduced gravitational pull, but they were larger than brown dwarfs. Still, four planet bodies made for a fairly small solar system so hopefully it wouldn't take too long to find our target.

"Keep the sensors on full power," I ordered him. "Have them specifically search for traces of element zero, platinum, palladium and iridium. Also keep an eye out for asteroid bodies so we can scan them too. Miss N'Tavis, take us in-system. We are going hunting for minerals."

"Aye, Captain Neilson," Aleria said cheerfully. A micro FTL jump later and we were at the closest planet. It was the gas giant and distance-wise it was the third planet from the sun. No moons to speak of and the planet was an ugly brown colour. "Oh, just so you know, this system is completely unnamed. That means you get the honour."

Huh. I can now add explorer to my small list of accomplishments. Who would have thought?

"How about this," I said. "There are five of us on board. As leader I will name the system, the rest of you can name them planets."

"Oooh, my very own planet!" Aleria exclaimed playfully, bringing the ship into a high orbit. "You sure know how to treat a girl!"

"Scanning," Hectar said, nervously cutting into Aleria's banter. I thought he might collapse if the sensor failed. "I am reading a highly concentrated methane, nitrogen and argon. The core seems to be a form of condensed chrome alloy, bauxite and carbon. Nothing here really. Unless you think the volus are running out of methane."

I look at him for a long moment, a small amount of surprise running through me. "Hectar," I began slowly, "did you just make a joke? I'm not imagining that, am I Aleria?"

"No, I heard it too," the pilot chipped in cheerfully.

The quarian technician rubbed his hands coyly together not looking at either of us. "Well, maybe a little one."

I let out a small grunt of amusement. "Good," I said evenly. "We will bust you out of your shell yet."

He finally looked over at me and Aleria. I don't know why but I have the feeling that if I could see through his visor, I might have seen a small smile on his face.

"Any asteroids nearby?" I asked.

He turned back to his monitor. "Nothing in the vicinity of the planet," he said. "But there appears to be a small asteroid field on the far side of the system, about two thirds of the way between the projected orbits of the third and fourth planets. It's right at the edge of the sensor's range which is why I didn't pick it up before."

Something told me that was it. "Sounds hopeful," I said, my cautious optimism leaking through my voice. "You have a heading, Aleria."

"On our way, Cap."

Another micro FTL jump and one minute fourteen seconds later we were halfway between the asteroid field and the planet.

Aleria looked at me, the unspoken question obvious. I take a quick look at the sensor but I already know where we are going. "The asteroids first."

At thruster speed the trip to the asteroid field takes another ten minutes. In truth, 'asteroid field' is a bit generous for what we found. There were only about thirty or so space rocks total, ranging from a few kilometres long down to a couple no larger than a basketball.

"Scan away, Hectar," I order.

The quarian tapped away at the monitor. I knew it the moment that he froze completely; we had found what we were looking for.

"Captain," he said, sounding awed, "I have a large reading of element zero from the third largest asteroid." He pointed it out on his monitor as I moved to look over his shoulder. "The asteroid looks to be about one point four kilometres long, eight hundred and fifty meters at its widest and seven hundred meters depth."

"How much eezo is there?" I asked. "Be specific. Is it the whole asteroid or just a portion?"

He tapped away again. "It looks like…" he took a moment to read the data. "Almost two thirds of the asteroid appears to be pure unrefined element zero."

"Can the sensors give us a more exact number?" I ask.

"Uh… to get an exact number we need to go closer and do a complete circle of the asteroid."

I turned to Aleria. "You heard the man," I said, feeling some relief and excitement starting to push their way through my chest. "Do a lap."

"Yes, sir!" she beamed.

Five minutes later we had the data. I hit the intercom.

"Team meeting in ten minutes down in the mess," I called. "I want everyone there. We have news."

Ten minutes later and I was heading down to the meeting with Aleria. We had pulled away to a high orbit of the small ice rock that was the outermost planet. Hectar had gone down earlier to meet up with Sel and Ely. I figured by the time we got there it was likely that the rest of the crew would be up to date with the discovery. All that remained was to explain what the plan was.

I frowned at that as I realised something. There were three different species here. That meant that there would likely be at least three different ideas of what should happen, depending on what Aleria thought. That could lead to trouble. And as much as I hated to think it, considering the plan I had for this first eezo asteroid, that would likely be quarian trouble.

I held back for a second as we arrived at the closed door of the mess hall, letting Aleria pass. She stopped and looked back at me, curious.

"Go on in," I said, bringing up my omni-tool as if I was making a note. "I will be there in just a second."

She nodded and went inside, closing the door behind her. I immediately lowered my arm, dropping the charade.

"Holly," I called to the ceiling softly. I didn't want to be overheard through the door. "Did all the crew link their communicators through the ship as I requested when we set out?"

"Yes, Captain Neilson," Holly's voice came back smoothly.

"Good. From now on, capture all outgoing messages sent by the crew. Give them the 'message sent' signal but send the messages to me on a five minute delay. Do not send the message until I have given the approval for it."

"Acknowledged, Captain Neilson."

I heaved a sigh. "Also, save a copy of the navigation data to my omni-tool and delete all other copies from your files the moment we leave the system."

"Yes, Captain Neilson."

I felt a little bad about this. For some reason, it felt like I was acting like the Illusive Man, not trusting in the people I had working for me. The problem was I had only been working with them for less than a week. We had not been in a situation that told me I could trust them with something this big. Maybe Aleria, but I doubted she would object to this as much as the others anyway.

Taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly, I opened the door and went into the mess.

...

Aleria sat at the wooden mess table, rubbing her hands along its surface. Wooden tables were a novelty on star ships. Every ship she had been on so far had only ever had metallic tables, except for one cruise liner that her mother had taken her on for her thirty-fifth birthday. She wasn't entirely sure why ships didn't use wood furniture, but it was just seen as a luxury that only the wealthy would bother with.

Personally, she liked it. There was something about wood that gave a touch of class to a ship. Especially this wood. It had a beautiful reddish hue to it. Brock had said it was an old hardwood that was from near his home on Earth. He had found a supplier on the Citadel that had been shipping wooden furniture and he had somehow managed to reserve it first. She couldn't remember the name of it, something with a 'J', but the polished wooden table definitely made the room seem warmer and more welcoming somehow.

The three quarians seemed to have no interest in the table though. Hectar had just finished telling Ely and Sel about their discovery. Clearly, they were as excited about it as she was. It was the first time that Sel had been in the same room as her without making an advance. He was persistent, she had to give him that. It was getting tiring turning him down. Not that he wasn't a nice person; he seemed to be. She just wasn't interested in him physically.

It wasn't because he was a quarian. She had no issue with the quarians at all. Her own father had been a quarian. According to her mother, it was the whole reason why Aleria had been so interested in becoming a pilot in the first place; an innate desire to work on ships. No, it was because Sel was _so obvious_ about it. There was no mystery to him. The galaxy had known about the quarian people for nearly a thousand years. She knew as much as she wanted to know about them right now.

The door opened and the latest source of mystery walked in. Brock Neilson. There was something about the human that was captivating. He was fairly good looking, for a human. He was slim and pale, the blonde hair kept short and he clearly removed his facial fur, like most humans. She had seen a few on the Citadel that had their facial hair grown out. Trimmed and well-groomed but grown out all the same. It was an unusual sight. Only the quarians had hair but their men didn't grow it on their face. A species that grew hair on their face was a new thing in the galaxy. She was an asari maiden that wanted to experience new things in the galaxy and humans were a new thing. Many maidens that she knew were travelling in the hopes of running into humans for a good new experience.

But it wasn't just the looks that were compelling to her. There was an air about him that was old and wise, something she had only ever seen in matriarchs. He had scars on his face that, when she had first met him, seemed to talk about a dangerous part of his character that lay hidden. He was mostly grim and even when he reciprocated some of her playful flirting with his banter, it was always with a serious tone, or with a grim face. She had only seen him smile a few times, but when he did it seemed to transform him into a different person. His features seemed to become alive and his pale blue eyes sparkled. At least, compared to the grim, focussed stare that he usually had when looking at people.

At first, she had thought him to be a former soldier or mercenary. He carried himself the same way and he always inspected every room in such a way that looked like he was evaluating risks and looking for entrances and exits. Much like he was doing now. It spoke to her of strength and control. It was exciting in its own way just to tease him, even if he never really rose to it other than with his words.

Then she had been woken up to the banging and screaming from his room. Then she had walked into the room to see the damage he had inflicted onto his own hands and the little bathroom in his quarters. The moment she had seen the scars on his hands, she had known that she hadn't been right in assuming that he was in control, not in the way that she had assumed. It was all an illusion that he had put up.

Because he was broken. He just didn't want anyone to know.

The talk that had followed had been more illuminating and terrifying than she could have imagined. She had kept her questions from being too penetrating and confronting because she hadn't wanted to make him lose complete control. He had only shared a few basic details, nothing specific, other than the comment about his son, which she still was trying to wrap her head around. Nothing in Mr Neilson… Brock's, demeanour had suggested he had ever been a father. She couldn't picture it. That must have meant that the pain of it was still too much to deal with properly, from what her aunt had told her.

Clearly the human was still haunted by the things he had seen and experienced. She couldn't blame him in the slightest when she thought how recent it had been. How the man had been able to do as much as he had done in the short time he had been free was a mystery to her. She had never seen it in any of the victims her aunt had introduced her to, nor even heard about from her aunt's stories. In the end, the short conversation led her to feel something else towards the human.

Respect.

To have gone through that type of Athame cursed hell and drag himself out of bed everyday would have been accomplishment enough. Yet here he was, leading an expedition. Obviously, he was driven to do something. She could see that clearly, even if she didn't know why. The only clue she had was when he had told her that 'there was too much to do'. He was somehow setting out to do something in the galaxy and it overrode his grief and pushed him forward. And he even managed to hide it fairly well from view, most of the time.

To her, that made him stronger than even the bravest asari commandos. As broken as he was, he was the strongest person she had met if he was out here, pushing forward to whatever goal he had in mind.

That didn't mean he didn't need healing. Or that he couldn't be healed.

After their talk he had actually shown a slight improvement in his mood. It was only a little bit but he was less grim and serious. He had even cracked a joke or two. Clearly he needed to talk about everything with someone. The moment that they started heading back she as going to bring up a chat with her aunt again. Aunt Selaen would surely meet up with him if she asked.

The quarians stopped talking and looked at Brock as he took his seat at the table.

"OK," he began, "I assume that Hectar and Aleria have caught you up on our little discovery?"

Ely nodded enthusiastically. Sel merely gave a single head bob. There was something about him that gave Aleria pause. She hadn't really had much to do with him other than rejecting his advances, but the way he was sitting right now… it was too stiff. The way he was normally sitting when she walked into the same room was open and loose limbed. Not at all like now. Maybe it was just his way of showing excitement but for some reason, a little alarm bell went off in her head.

"Good," he said. "Then as captain of this vessel, I name this newly discovered system the Argo system. What are you all going to name your planets?"

A ripple of surprise ran through her. She would have thought the first order of the meeting was the element zero. She recovered quickly.

"I am calling my planet Aleria," she said. She had been given the second planet from the sun to name. "Because how many asari maidens out there can claim that they have a _planet_ named after them?"

"Erati," Ely said, referring to the closest planet to the sun. "After my mother."

"Setta," Sel grunted out, meaning the one furthest away from the red dwarf.

Hectar took a little moment longer before he finally gave the name for the third planet in the system. "Kullu. He was my grandfather. He basically raised me."

"Good choices everyone. Now," Brock continued, drawing her attention away from Sel. "We also happen to be sitting on a fortune here. On an asteroid in this system is about three hundred million cubic meters of element zero." He paused with an expression on his pale face that made him seem as if something had just come to him. "Why is it measured in cubic meters and not weight?"

"That's only for unrefined element zero," Ely piped up happily. "Eezo in an unrefined state has unusual qualities that make weighing it unreliable as it can increase or decrease its weight without warning."

"Ah," he said, his face returning to its neutral, grim state. "Thanks Ely. Now, according to the Citadel Stock Exchange before we lost contact with the extranet beacons, that puts us in wealth of about four hundred and eighty-five billion credits."

Aleria couldn't help a squeak of excitement. Hectar spread his hands out on the table as if supporting himself to stop passing out. Ely's raised her hands in a gesture of triumph and let out a crow of happiness. Sel didn't do anything other than sit up a little taller.

That warning bell in Aleria's mind went off a little louder.

"We could probably get a little more than that if we decided to auction it off on the open market," Brock said, apparently not seeing the crew's reactions. "But that isn't what I want to do."

Confusion pushed its way into Aleria's mind. He didn't want to sell it?

Apparently she wasn't the only one. "What do you mean?" Hectar asked nervously.

Brock paused for a moment as he appeared to consider what he said next.

"I want to sell it directly to the Asari Republics," he stated.

A very visible trickle of shock passed through the room. Aleria asked the obvious question. "Why?'

He sighed. "The galaxy currently exists in a certain status quo. The turians are the warmongers who believe in superiority through might, the salarians think they are the smartest and the asari are the most advanced and the longest living among the Council races. Only the krogan can match them. This gives the asari matriarchs the incorrect assumption that they are superior through the supposed wisdom of their matriarchs. No offence."

Aleria winced. The words themselves were blunt and harsh. At the same time, she wasn't completely sure she could disagree with them. Matriarchs in particular had a way of talking to people as if they were somehow beneath them, including other asari.

"Regardless, this status quo exists on the fact that the asari have the largest economy due to their own eezo mines on Thessia which the other races are reliant on, much as they wish otherwise. If I throw in our asteroid into the mix, what would that achieve? It would definitely damage the asari economy, potentially irreparably. I need the credits that the eezo would provide but I would rather not make all of the asari people suffer for it. However, if they choose not to buy, I think the salarians would be the next best option, genocidal maniacs that they are."

"Why not give it to the humans?" Sel finally asked, his tone suspicious. "Or the Migrant Fleet?"

Brock looked at him for a long moment. "I am not going to _give it_ to anyone. I am going to sell it. The reason I am not selling it to the Systems Alliance is because I have some concerns about what would happen to it. There are many humans that are still not sold on the reality of alien civilisations being a good thing. Some very openly believe in human supremacy, which is ridiculous. It could lead to other problems. As for the quarians," he sighed again as he looked at his three suited employees, "I am sorry for the Fleet but I don't think that they would be able to give good trade for credits. They would benefit much more from me selling it to them than I would. At the moment, I need every credit I can get my hand on. There are a lot of plans that I have for that money and lots of things need to be bought. If you think that the quarians could both give me the credits I need and still be able to feed their people and fuel their ships, speak up now."

None of the quarians said anything immediately. Aleria couldn't help but agree with his assessment of the quarians. The ragtag label that was attached to their Fleet was legendary. If Brock needed money to be able to do whatever it was that he was planning to do, he wouldn't find it from the quarians.

"You could always cut it down into smaller parts?" Sel argued. "Sell off bits to the different races. The Fleet might not be able to pay for the whole thing but they could do with a few thousand square meters. That could keep the Fleet running for a while without being taken advantage of by either the Council or the Terminus systems."

"With what equipment do I cut it in portions?" Brock countered mildly. "Something like this doesn't just hold. I don't have the time to wait until we can bring equipment to cut this in portions. I need the credits fast because I have a lot of work to get on with. The fastest way for that to happen now is to sell it to the asari, who have both the money and the desperation to stay on top of the economic food chain. The Fleet will be helped, but at a later date."

Again with his need for quick work. There was something there. Something urgent. Whatever it was, it was bothering Aleria, like a tick on the back of her neck. What could be so important that he was running on a time limit?

Sel didn't say anything but he stayed stiff for a long moment. Finally, he gave a short nod and sat back, clearly not happy. Aleria had a feeling this wasn't over. Besides, Brock had a couple of very strong points. There might be a few arguments against his claims, arguments that might work towards having it sold to other people. But he was right about the asari having the credits and the desperation to stay on top of the eezo distribution ladder. Selling it to them would prevent a lot of economic instability meaning it would really have the least amount of impact on the galaxy while still giving him the most benefit.

Aleria looked back at Brock, a small feeling of awe passing through her. Even with everything that must be going through the human's mind, he had somehow thought out the best way to make this situation work, according to his needs. Truly impressive.

"Alright, well we have a plan," Brock announced. "Let's get to it. But first, does anyone have zero g experience? I need someone to go get a small sample of that eezo."

To Aleria's surprise, Hectar raised a hesitant hand.

"Good," Brock said firmly, a small hint of relief around his eyes. "There is a tether and a cutting tool in the rear port crew storage room. Grab that and head to the airlock. everyone else, back to stations."

Everyone stood up from the table, the quarians heading back to engineering, Hectar in tow. Aleria followed Brock back towards the cockpit. Once they were there alone, Aleria made sure to turn the security cameras in the engineering bay on. She had the feeling that Sel might try something and had no plan on letting him betray the rest of the team.

Brock saw what she was doing and raised an eyebrow. "You caught it too?" he asked.

Aleria bit her lip and nodded. Clearly she hadn't imagined it. "I don't intent to be caught unaware."

He gave a small, genuine smile that left a small pleasant swirl in her stomach. "Well done, my little violet pilot. Holly," he called to the ceiling. "Notify both of us the moment that we are in range of a comm beacon."

"Acknowledged, Captain."

"Now, let's hope we do this right, Miss N'Tavis," Brock said, looking back at her with a small tight smile as she brought the ship closer to the asteroid. "We are going to try and bargain with one of the most powerful people in the galaxy."

 **...**

 **A/N Follow/Favourite/Review as you please. Constructive criticism is appreciated. Trolls are ignored.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N** **I own nothing. Mass Effect is owned by Bioware**

 **Thanks for being patient. I still am running a bit behind on my writing. Took three weeks to get my laptop back. Even this is just done from the few spare moments I had at work.**

 **That being said, an important milestone was reached. 100 followers has been well and truly passed! Thank you for the support. I am glad that you are all enjoying it and hope that I can continue keeping people interested. The response has been positive so far and I will do my best to keep things that way.**

 **Comments:**

 **frankieu, deadtrooper, zapper25 - Thank you all. And frankieu - well... guess he does.**

 **brandonack96 - Don't worry, the crew will be expanded and more races will be part of it. I don't want to reveal too much yet but yes, there will be more races in the crew.**

 **rfpizzle - Yeah, it can be hard to judge a story just from the first chapter so thanks for reading on and I am glad that you kept going and found yourself enjoying it. Good to know that my writing isn't too bad!**

 **ErzherzogKarl - Yes, Cerberus weren't really a power to worry about prior to and during ME1, but they did exist ever since first contact, according to the canon. As the MC would have been able to access that information, he would have known about it. At this stage, I just wanted him to be able to show that he knows about them without actually naming specific groups. But you definitely do make a good point about Ashley and the aliens reactions to the war.**

 **betapike - To be honest I was trying to think of a realistic price for that amount of eezo. I didn't want it to be too high but at the same time, it is considered the most valuable resource in the ME universe so it had to be worth something good.**

 **Danen5 - Well, I wasn't wanting to make people feel depressed, sorry! But I guess it is good that some of the emotion I am trying to put across in the story is coming through to the reader. And I am glad that you were able to get ideas for yourself too, even if it was accidental.**

 **...**

 **CHAPTER 8 - LOYALTY**

It didn't take long for the betrayal to happen.

In hindsight, I guess it was only a matter of time. As a result, I couldn't help but be grateful for some of the precautions I had set up. I felt like an untrusting jerk but it was safer to be untrusting with unknown people than to trust and be hurt. That was a lesson well learned.

I had been in the cockpit with Aleria. She was teaching me the controls of the _Enterprise_ and I was doing my best to pilot. The ship itself was in FTL so I couldn't actually touch anything. I wasn't game enough to risk that. But it was useful to learn what the controls would do so that I would know later on.

The security cameras for the ship had all their controls routed to the cockpit. That way either Aleria or I were able to monitor any suspicious behaviour from here. And there was one person that the suspicious behaviour had been attributed to. Sel'Hara nar Fallir.

The cameras were locked on to his presence constantly. Actually they were following all three of the quarians, just to be sure. Only Sel had said anything about the eezo going to the Migrant Fleet, but silence from Ely and Hectar was something that needed to be supervised, at least as a precaution. I had no way of knowing how those two would react.

It had started coming to a head as I was learning about thrust stress on the engines. I was staring at the controls blankly, feeling a little out of my league, when Aleria alerted me that Sel was leaving his work station in engineering. I looked over and saw that he was moving down a corridor away from anything that might have explained why he was leaving. Then, when he reached an empty store room away from the others, he opened up his omni-tool and started tapping away at something.

"Captain Neilson, crewman Sel'Hara is attempting to access my navigation data," Holly's voice came calmly over the speakers.

I gave a grim look at Aleria, but even so I couldn't help feeling a little vindicated. "Do you know how to use stasis?" I asked her.

She nodded, her face serious.

"Alright, let's go have a chat with our quarian friend," I said.

She looked a little alarmed. "But he could get into the navigation data!"

I gave her a bittersweet smile. "Holly," I called out. "Did you delete all navigation data to the Argo system as per my order?" Aleria stared at me in surprise for a moment before her expression changed to a more neutral one.

"Affirmative, Captain Neilson. The only copy that exists is the one you have."

"Good." I started walking towards the lift, Aleria right behind me. "Please inform us if they move to a different part of the ship."

"Acknowledged, Captain Neilson."

The _Hidden Enterprise_ had six elevators. Four led into the cargo bay, one at each corner of the ship. They only had two stops below the crew decks. The first stop was a gangplank system that ran over the cargo bay proper, with the second stop being the cargo bay floor. The other two elevators were specifically for the crew decks.

The crew deck elevators were both about halfway along the width of the ship, but one was aft, near the engines, while the other one was in front of the cockpit towards the front of the ship. We took the one to near the cockpit and went down to the lower crew deck to get to engineering

The elevators in the ships had been like all other elevators I had come across so far in this universe: mind-numbingly slow. One of the first things I had made Sel do when he had got on board was to rework all the motors on the elevator drive shafts. Now they ran at least four times faster than they had before. It made going to the gym so much better, seeing as the gym was based in the cargo bay.

We made our way down to the third crew deck, which was the same level as engineering, and made our way through the hallways to where Sel was trying to hack the ship's computer.

As we reached the last door before we confronted Sel, the muffled sounds of raised voices stopped me short.

There was some sort of argument going on behind the door. I exchanged a look of bewilderment with Aleria but didn't approach any closer to the door. I didn't want to accidently hit the glowing green door open switch.

"Holly, can you play the audio of the next room over the speakers in this hallway?" Aleria said in a loud whisper. "Volume setting low."

A click came over a speaker about five meters back from the door and we went back to listen. It was Hectar and Sel yelling at each other.

"No, I won't help you find where Captain Neilson hid the navigation data for the eezo asteroid!" Hectar was yelling, which was a surprise in itself. Hectar had never yelled, so far as we knew.

"You know that the Fleet needs this eezo!" Sel yelled back. "It could keep the whole Fleet going for years. Think about how much our people could achieve if we didn't need to buy eezo at the inflated prices the Council races make us pay!"

"You think that _stealing_ the eezo will help the Fleet?" Hectar demanded. "How will it help all of the thousands of future pilgrims? What you are doing will stop anyone trusting our people ever again! We already get labelled as suit rats and thieves. This is going to prove them right! No one will ever trust us again!"

"Of course they will!" Sel countered. "They need us too much! We are qualified cheap labour! This will get blown over. Ely would agree with me!"

"Hey don't bring me into this," Ely's voice came over the speaker for the first time. "Captain Neilson, Brock, has been nothing but nice to us since the first time we met. He has never treated us badly and he is paying us better than I have ever heard any pilgrim being paid before. He made sure that I got an apology from some salarian jerk on the Citadel and never asked for anything other than for me to do my job. He is a nice human and he doesn't deserve us betraying him like this!"

"Are you serious?" Sel screamed. "This is the benefit of the Fleet we are talking about! How can you honestly turn your back on the Fleet for a _human_?!"

"It's because I am doing this for the Fleet and whatever we have left as a reputation!" Hectar shouted back. "It's because of thieves like you that ruin everything for the rest of us that we are hated for more than just the geth! How are we going to really improve our standing with the galaxy if we steal from the people who help us? From our employers? From our friends?"

"He isn't our friend, he's our boss!" Sel scoffed. "He is only paying us for what he needs. If he didn't need us then he wouldn't even want anything to do with us!"

I started moving towards the door, Aleria in tow. I had heard enough by now. Just as I was about to open the door I heard one more reply from our resident female quarian.

"Like that makes it better!" Ely yelled. "I don't care what you say, taking this from Brock is wrong. He is a nice man and he treats us with respect. Do you know how many jobs I had to go through before I could even work without being sworn at by everyone else that I worked with? Not to mention the ones who were just trying to see my body under my suit? I am not going to stab the person that treats out people with respect over this. And I am not a thief!"

I palmed the door open and saw Sel with his back to me, Ely and Hectar facing me and Aleria. They both stiffened the moment they saw us. I guessed that Sel didn't notice either their reaction or hear the door hiss open behind him as he gave one more argument.

"How can you both be so naïve about this?" he shouted. "This would stop the need for us to rely on the Council races. We could buy new ships! We might even be able to take back Rannoch!"

"Well," I said, cutting into the conversation. The reaction was almost comical as Sel nearly jumped out of his suit with shock, before whirling around with his omni-tool raised. Before he could do anything with it he was encased in the tell-tale blue light of a stasis field, preventing all movement. I looked to my left and saw Aleria glowing with biotic output. Her face was hard as she glared at the treasonous engineer. It was the first time I had ever seen her angry. I turned back to face the group of quarians.

"Well, this has been most enlightening," I continued. I walked forward and stood right in front of the immobilised Sel. "How disappointing. You are a damn good engineer. I don't know how long it would have taken me before I went crazy, had you not managed to increase the speed of the elevators. I would have preferred to keep you on board. Sadly, I think it goes without saying that when we reach the Citadel you can look for new employment."

I stepped past him and faced the two, suddenly very nervous, remaining quarians. Ely was rubbing the side of her facemask and Hectar was rubbing his hands together. Neither of them were looking at me. Apparently there was a spot on the floor that they were both very interested in.

"On the other hand, I should really thank you both for the honesty, loyalty and friendship you have shown me by not trying to help him steal for me. So, thank you. And I am going to make sure that you two have some damn good gifts to take back to the Fleet, regardless of how long you stay with me."

Ely looked up at me and her eyes narrowed on the outside a little. It was the look that I had learned to associate with her smiling. Hectar also looked up and stood taller than I had ever seen him stand. I had the feeling that he was feeling a sense of pride, but I wasn't entirely sure.

I looked back at Sel, still stuck in stasis, arm raised from his attempt to assault where I had been standing me. "Hectar," I continued, "could you be a pal and disable his omni-tool. I would hate for my pretty purple pilot to be attacked when the stasis wears off."

"Thanks boss," Aleria growled. She still hadn't looked up from glaring at Sel. She had seemed to be angrier about this than I was.

"Uh… sure," Hectar said. He activated his omni-tool and fiddled around with it for a few moments. Sel's omni-tool shut off. A strange choked-off sound came from behind Sel's visor.

"Thank you kindly," I said. I stepped back in front of Sel and looked him square in the visor. His eye narrowed into what I guessed was a glare. "Just so you know, I would have helped the Fleet later, but on my terms. You are lucky that I was prepared for something like this, and that this hadn't happened on a military vessel. Otherwise, things could have been ugly for you."

Aleria had taken him to an unused sleeping room that we were going to confine him in, far away from anything that he might be able to use to his advantage. Ely had stripped him of his omni-tool and everything from the pouches in his enviro suit that wasn't antibiotics. Then we left him there in the makeshift brig, disabling the door lock behind us.

The whole event had left a sour mood among the crew and I had to call a team meeting. Aleria was still looking at the other quarians suspiciously and I didn't want to have any dissension with my remaining crew.

"OK," I said, beginning the meeting, "I just want to thank you again for standing by me. Aleria, I wouldn't have been able to control that situation if it wasn't for you. Ely and Hectar, what you said in support of me, I really appreciate it. It lets me know that I can trust you both. And despite the ugliness of what just happened, I want to say that I am grateful to have you all on my crew and I hope you will all stay with me for a long time yet. A crew needs to have each other's backs. Today you have shown me that you all have mine. Maybe for differing reasons, but you are honest and trustworthy. That means I want you to stay with me."

I was earnest with my words. Finding people that I could trust in this galaxy was invaluable. I needed them to be able to work with. Not to mention, I… I was enjoying having people near me again now. I was feeling better than I had in months and I knew that having these people with me, despite Sel's actions, was part of the reason. I was befriending them. I was still stiff in the way I spoke and I wasn't back to being a normal conversationalist, but I was improving every day, thanks to the people at the table with me.

"I'm in," Aleria said straight away. "I signed up for the long run and I am not leaving you so soon."

"Same here," Ely spoke up. "I don't know how long I can stay overall but I will at least make it to a year with you."

"Me too," Hectar said after a few moments. "You have already been the fairest boss I have ever had and I have only worked with you for a couple of weeks. I can't tell you how much I needed this job and you have been the nicest person, human or otherwise, that I have worked for outside the Fleet. Not that you aren't nice Aleria," he added hurriedly. "But I just meant as an actual boss. I know you are number two but he is the nicest number one. I mean, uh…"

"It's ok Hectar," I interrupted. "I understand. And I thank all of you. I want everyone here to know that I trust you all. And as a result of our find I am going to give you all nice bonuses once we get the money from the Asari Republics."

That basically concluded the situation until we got back into contact with a comm beacon. As soon as that happened, I asked Aleria, who had wired a communications terminal through her command console, to send a message to the office of Councillor Tevos. It took her a few minutes to get the contact information from the extranet but she finally looked at me expectantly.

"Dear Councillor Tevos," I dictated. "My company has discovered information that will have a significant impact on the economy of the Asari Republics. I request a meeting with you to discuss this information further. Signed, Brock Neilson, President of Shieldstar Corp."

That had been more than a day ago. Now I stood in the cockpit behind her with Hectar next to me. Aleria had just informed me that she had a response and I had wanted to be in the cockpit when she read it out for me. Hectar was already up there scrubbing the data on the asteroid to prevent any chance of anyone accidentally finding any information on the system other than what I wanted them to find: namely none. The only thing that I wanted was the data on the asteroid itself to be on an OSD. That and the small piece that we had retrieved to get a minerology report on. We were only about three hours from the Citadel and I was looking forward to meeting with the Councillor. I wanted to be able to move on to the next part of the plan. While the other two in the cockpit were working, I was finalising the last bits for more jobs that I was seeking. I really had to think about hiring a human resources manager to do this for me. Huh, I stopped and thought to myself for a moment. Is it still even called 'human resources'?

"OK," Aleria's voice cut into my thoughts. "The message from the office of Citadel Councillor Tevos reads: 'Dear Mr Neilson, I thank you for your message. Please know that your information will be taken seriously. You now have an appointment set for the third day of Anastas, on the Thessian calendar, or the 15th of September on the Systems Alliance calendar. I anticipate our meeting then. With Athame's blessings, Councillor Tevos T'."

I frowned as I let the contents of the message wash over me. I brought up the date on my omni-tool. Still in the first week of August. She set the meeting for nearly six weeks away. I wasn't planning on sitting around doing nothing for that long.

I guess that Aleria had caught on to my mood. That or she had been paying attention to me when I had told her that there is a lot of work to do. Most likely that, now that I think about it. Either way she was looking at me with a curious expression.

"Well, you have your appointment," she said, her voice entirely too innocent for it to be real. She was guessing that I was going to say something.

Better not disappoint her then.

"Indeed we do," I said evenly. "Could you please reply for me?"

She gave a small sly grin and turned back to her console. "Whenever you are ready."

"Dear Councillor Tevos, I thank you for your reply. It is gratifying to know that you considered my previous message significant enough to arrange a meeting. Unfortunately, due to time constraints, I am unable to wait that long for an appointment. Due to the urgency of this matter, if I am unable to meet you within… uh." I turned to Hectar. "How long would this asteroid be able to keep the Migrant Fleet flying?"

"Oh," he said, startled that I would call on him. "Uh…" he turned his head as he considered the question. "I am not sure. That amount of eezo among the fifty thousand ships… maybe twenty years. Possibly thirty."

"Good to know," I said turning back to Aleria. "Four days. If we are unable to meet with you in four days then this matter will need to be moved on. As such, I apologise in advance to yourself and the Council of Matriarchs on Thessia for losing the entirety of business from the Salarian Union for the next fifty years or so. I trust that if no reply is forthcoming, it means that the Republics economy will be able to weather such an issue. I await your decision. Kind regards, Brock Neilson. CEO of Shieldstar Corp."

Aleria stared at me, open mouthed in stunned disbelief. "You are extorting a Councillor?" she whispered, as if Tevos herself would overhear. Even Hectar stood stiff in what I assumed was surprise or possibly fear.

I gave her my best innocent smile. "Not at all," I declared. "I am merely warning the Councillor of the consequences of this eezo hitting the open market. In fact, just giving the Asari Republics first preference might almost be considered insider trading by giving them an unfair advantage. I am sure that Councillor Tevos would prefer to not risk damaging the reputation of the Republics that way, would she?"

Aleria's laugh was both somehow ecstatically playful and incredulous. It was an odd combination, but she seemed to pull it off as far as I was concerned. She turned back to her console and tapped out the message. "And sent!" she declared, tapping the final icon with a flourish. She turned around and her face lost most of her amusement. "I hope you know what you're doing," her tone was as serious as when she helped me confine Sel. She actually looked a little scared. "You are challenging one of the most powerful people in the galaxy. She didn't become a Councillor on her good looks. She is a politician at her core and she can be ruthless when she needs to and is manipulative by her very nature. The calm friendly face and understanding nature she gives off are really just a front."

I took in what she said. I had never really met any high level politicians directly, so I could only go on the assumptions of what I had seen of politicians on Earth and what the games had shown. It gave me an idea of what to expect but in reality I was stepping into the unknown here. I had planned what I would have said if I had been in this situation before I came out here and I had been thinking about it ever since we had found the eezo. I just hoped that it would go according to plan.

"I know what I am doing," I replied, as casually as I could. "The question is: whether or not it will pay off. And there are a few things I know about Councillor Tevos. And the main one is that first and foremost, she cares about the Republics more than she cares about the Council. If we do this right, then I think that I can not only sell our eezo, but maybe even gain a powerful ally."

The worry didn't leave my asari pilot's face as she turned back to her console. "I hope you are right."

I walked over and put my hand on her shoulder, squeezing it in what I hope is a reassuring gesture to the asari. To my surprise, she reached up a hand and gripped mine tightly. I admit that I froze. I had no idea what her return gesture meant; was it comfort. I decided to try continue my reassuring pep talk.

"Don't worry, my pretty blue pilot," I said softly. "I have a plan to make sure that nothing bad happens to us."

Aleria didn't say anything to that but she just tightened the squeeze on my hand for a moment before dropping her hand.

I walked back to my station and sat in my navigator's chair. "Hectar," I said, looking at my techie. "How's that sensor data going?"

He looked over at me. "I am just finishing it now," he replied confidently. Ever since the run in with Sel he had lost most of his nervousness. It was good. He needed to have confidence in himself. More than that; he needed to _believe_ in himself. I think he was starting to do that. "Everything as you asked. No stars in the background for astro identification, no coordinates, no planets or anything that could lead to the location of the asteroid being given away. The only thing that will be seen is the data on the asteroid itself. That combined with the sample that you had me get should be enough to prove that you are genuine."

I nodded in satisfaction.

"Hectar," Aleria cut in without turning around. "Could you give us a moment, please? In private?"

I looked at her and raised an eyebrow. This was unexpected. Did she want to talk about meeting with Tevos again?

Hectar looked a little uncertain. "Uh, yeah. I mean, sure. I will be back in a few minutes." I watched as he got up and walked over to the elevator, closing the door behind him with a soft hiss.

I turned back to Aleria to see her looking at me, a little nervous. I wondered if she was about to just get to what she had been dancing around and just proposition me.

"I was wondering," she began slowly, "if you had given any thought to speaking with my aunt."

I paused, surprised at the topic. Clearly I still had no idea what to expect with women. But then, considering how I got into the mess I had gone through, that wasn't all that surprising.

"I have thought about it," I murmured. And truthfully I had. The idea terrified me. I didn't really want to live through it all again.

At the same time, after my talk with Aleria I felt better. I had even had a couple of nights where I hadn't had any nightmares. Compared to the two weeks before that, and to be honest most of the snippets of sleep in the dungeon, it was a massive improvement. Even the severity of my dreams had decreased a little. So I had been debating about if doing the therapy session would be more painful than to learn to live with it.

"And?" she pressed quietly.

I gave a heavy sigh and rubbed my eyes. "I don't know," I admitted. "Part of me thinks it would be a good idea. Another part of me doesn't want to go through it again."

She looked at me oddly, prompting me to speak up again. "What?"

She just shook her head. "It's just one of those things I have noticed you humans do, how you seem to be able to annunciate split desires as if it was different parts of your body wanting different things. Such as, my legs say yes but my hands so no."

I give a small lopsided smile. "Yeah, we humans are certainly unusual that way."

"Yes," she agreed. "But back on meeting with my aunt; I honestly really do think that it would be better for you to talk with her. She might be able to help you… heal from this."

I stay quiet, thinking it through some more.

"Please do it," Aleria cut into my thoughts. "For me?" She gave me some of the most pleading sad eyes I have ever seen before. Like watching a puppy that wants food.

I gave another sigh. Dammit. "Fine. If she is on the Citadel then I will meet with her."

"OK," she said. She doesn't say anything else but I can see the obvious relief in her eyes.

The conversation has started to make me feel agitated. I needed to burn it off before I said or did something that I would regret. Especially to the person that was doing her best to try and help me.

"I am going to the gym," I tell her shortly. "Let me know when we hear back from Councillor Tevos."

…

I had been in the gym for a while now but I still faced the punching the bag, hitting it with tired hands. My mind wasn't focussed on the punching, the sweat running into my eyes or the pain that the repetitive collision of bag with gloves has projected into my fists. No, I was reliving moments in the dungeon. More specifically, the escape. every time I felt tired, I relived it to drive myself on.

 _The door opens and the first guy runs in, knife in his hand. He doesn't see me hiding behind the door and that's all it takes for me to throw a jab to his throat. He throws his hands up to his neck. The idiot doesn't drop the knife and cuts himself on the chin and cheek badly. I kick him in the groin, feeling a spike of pain going through my leg as I hit a damaged spot but he drops to the ground instantly anyway. Using the knife I had taken from the man in the room behind me I stab him in the eye and turn back to the doorway, moving into the corridor beyond._

I feel the rage building in me again, adrenaline coursing through my limbs. The pains and weakness I had been feeling now easier to ignore as I use the memories to push me onwards in my assault on the punching bag.

 _The second guy comes at me with a familiar steel pole. I_ hate _that pole. The damage it did to my feet is horrendous. I jump forward to meet him. The guy throws an overhead shot at me, the only type possible in the narrow confines of the hallway. I duck beneath it but even with the adrenaline pumping through me I am not fast enough. The steel weapon collides with my left shoulder and I see stars for a moment. I throw my hands out to ward my attacker way without any real conscious thought. I feel the point of the knife make contact and hear a yell. The stars fade and I see that my blind strike has slashed through the nose of the man in front of me and his hands are trying to hold what's left together. I step forward and stab him savagely in his stomach. He drops with a groan._

 _I can't move my left shoulder without pain now. Not good. I need to finish this quick or I am not going to make it. I step over the man on the floor, moving on to find the next one. Pain explodes in my lower back and I collapse to my knees._

I punch the bag harder with a flurry of right-handed power hits as the memory of the pain sends faint echoes through my back.

 _The near-noseless man on the ground tried to rise and swing the steel pole again. I threw myself on top of him and used my only good hand to slam his head against the ground, finally silencing him. I stood up, taking two attempts before I could rise to my feet, because my back was killing me. I stumbled forward. There were at least two more to go…_

"Mr Neilson!" Ely shouted behind me. I yell, jump and turn around, fists up ready to attack. I stop before I actually throw a punch but Ely had already leapt back out of range anyway. I stare at her for a moment, breathing heavily. It takes me a long minute before I realise where I am and what's going on. Sweat is pouring into my eyes and the long sleeves of the under armour exercise shirt are clinging to me and drenched from the perspiration.

"Yes?" I ask dumbly, lowering my arms.

"Uh, Aleria asked me to come find you," she said, clearly still very nervous. "She said you hadn't been answering the intercom for the last ten minutes. Keelah, it took me five tries before you even responded."

"Oh," I said, a little perturbed at how focussed I had been on the punching bag. How long had I been punching the thing? "Well, thanks for coming to get me. And, uh, sorry for scaring you."

"It's ok," she said, heading back towards the closest elevator. "I know you wouldn't hurt me."

She is already gone before I realise what she has said. She knows I wouldn't hurt her? When did I ever gain that level of trust? From the Citadel? From how I dealt with Sel? I shook my head and grabbed my towel, trying to wipe my face dry. For some reason I am having a little trouble getting my arms up high enough to do that now as the adrenaline is starting to wear off. I needed to stretch them out soon or there would be hell to pay.

"Intercom to the bridge," I call out towards the wall. It was where the nearest terminal and speaker was. "Aleria, you were calling me?"

"Yeah, for like ten minutes," she came back instantly, her voice clearly concerned. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah, just working out some tension," I reply, brushing it off and starting my post-exercise arm stretches. It was harder to twist my arms than I expected.

Clearly it didn't work. "You sure? Because you were working it out for more than an hour."

I stop in surprise. An hour on the bag? As she says it the last of the adrenaline finally leaves my system and I realise how heavy my arms are. A wave of exhaustion suddenly threatens to overwhelm me and I take a seat on the closest chair. Well, collapse is probably more accurate.

"I guess I had more to work off than I thought," I admit out loud. I had really lost track of time there.

"I see," came a stoic reply. "Well, you wanted to know when the office of Councillor Tevos sent a reply and they just did. They said that they will meet with us in two days. I set the appointment up in your schedule and sent it to your omni-tool."

"Oh, well that was very thoughtful, thank you so much." I meant it. I wouldn't have forgotten but it was still a really considerate thing to do.

"You're welcome." There was a short pause. "I also called sent a message to my aunt and asked her to meet up with you. I will let you know when I get a reply."

Oh, right. I had set up the delay through Holly. Aleria didn't know about that. "Right," I said shortly, feeling tension building in my chest a little. "Thanks."

"Of course." Another pause. "By the way," she continued, her voice starting to sound like her normal cheerful self, "you might want to read the reply from Councillor herself. If I didn't know better, I would say that it was the most polite angry letter I have ever seen. I actually laughed at it."

"Oh really," I say, feeling a nugget of amusement building in my chest, already burrowing through the tension. "Do you think that someway, somehow, the Councillor or her staff may have felt as if I slighted them and their mothers or something?"

A rich and most welcome giggle came through the speaker. "Honestly, it almost kinda makes me think you did somehow insult them all personally. They set the appointment, but they were clearly not happy about it. I don't think anyone short of the batarian ambassador has probably been that audacious to Tevos. Ever."

I feel the smile tugging at my lips. "I don't know about that. From what I have heard, I think that Ambassador Udina could probably give ol' four eyes a run for his money."

The happy laugh through the intercom took away the last of the heavy mood I had hanging over me from my workout. "I will leave that to you to be the judge. Just so you know we will be docking at the Citadel in less than an hour."

"Great. Pass the word along that you and Ely have shore leave for the next day, but when we go for our meeting with the councillor I want everyone there. Except for Sel, obviously. And I want Hectar to come see me before we dock."

"Will do, boss." The intercom clicked off.

Satisfied that my face is sufficiently dried out by now, I awkwardly sling my towel over my shoulder with rather uncooperative arms and head up to take a shower. "Holly," I call out as I reach the elevator. "Send Aleria's message on now." Time to get help. Dammit.

 **...**

 **A/N Please Follow/Favourite/Review as you like. Constructive criticism is appreciated. Trolls are ignored.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N I own nothing. Mass Effect is owned by Bioware**

 **This chapter is the first time I am introducing an OC suggestion (OCS). Thanks to Sornosquinfallen for the suggestion. More of this will be spoken of at the end.**

 **Also, I start back at university this week so while I will try to keep going with regular updates, it might slow down if things get a bit busy and I have to focus on my studies. Bear with me though because I am not killing this story. Not yet anyway.**

 **Comments:**

 **VODKA18, Nipplegunz, rfpizzle, frankieu – thanks. Also, Nipplegunz – love the name!**

 **FuZzvKiNgZz – Well, I have been doing the planning of that chapter. I will most likely post a warning ahead of time so people can avoid if they wish. I might need to change the rating too. Again, I will warn people first.**

 **zapper25 – it's close! Next chapter (chapter 10) should be the one.**

 **BrotherCaptainSheperd – I imagine he would. We may see that whenever we get introduced to him later. Who knows?!**

 **ArchAngel319 – Thanks. I have been considering whether or not to do a romance of the MC. If it does happen I don't expect it to be for a while. There are psychological issues regarding this. More will be explained in a few chapters.**

 **Jotun – Well, for starters, I am glad that you missed out on PTSD in the navy. Lots of people get caught up in that and I know it can be pretty heavy stuff and leave long term problems for the sufferer and their loved ones. As for Tevos, that will be coming up soon. And as far as melding goes, well, there are mental blocks, but a more powerful asari can override a weaker one, which is one of the most serious crimes in asari culture so far as I know. That may be brought into the story later.**

 **On with the story!**

…

 **CHAPTER 9**

Walking around the Citadel again, I was strangely feeling better than I had in a long time. It's as if the dark cloud that hung over me had shifted, letting in a few rays of normality. It felt good. Maybe it was a sign of further improvement after my deep and meaningful with Aleria or maybe it was just the fact that the next step had gone as planned. Either way, it was satisfying.

The first thing I had done upon arrival was to release Sel. He had been quietly furious the remainder of the trip, refusing to talk to anyone else, except to call Ely and Hectar 'traitors to the Fleet' whenever they dropped food off to him. Aleria was always in tow, to restrain him with biotics if he decided to try anything but he ignored her. I released him and escorted him back to the airlock. Once we had cleared decontamination I gave him his omni-tool back. He yanked it out of my hand angrily and started walking away. I called out for him to stop. He did but he didn't turn around.

I walked up behind him, halting a few steps away, the others staying back, watching cautiously. "You know," I said to his back, "I don't blame you for wanting to help the Fleet. It's your people and you want to help them in the best way you know how. That is something I can never find fault in. So as a result, I won't broadcast it out there that you tried to betray your employer and your crew."

I walked around until I stood directly in front of him, staring him directly in his glowing eyes. "But, you did try to steal from me," I continued, my voice hardening. "That is something I can't abide. So I will be getting the details of your captain back in the Fleet and informing him of what you have done, as well as my actions. So, if what I think I know about quarians is correct, you are going to need a damn good gift to give back to the Fleet to escape any punishment from them."

His eyes widen behind his mask and he stiffened even further. I stepped forward until I was only inches away from him. "Now, I know it won't make much sense now," I whispered making sure that my words didn't carry to the others. "But soon enough, you and the entire galaxy are going to realise why I need the money. And when you do, you are going to be glad that I stopped you from doing what you planned to do." With that, I opened up my omni-tool and paid him for the days he worked before his confinement and left him to his own devices as he stalked out the docking bay.

After that I took the eezo in a secure container to a mineralogist in the Wards. I viewed this as a crucial step in proving that my eezo was not stolen and was indeed genuine. I had gone gold prospecting back home and had learned that it was possible for gold to be tracked to the location that it had come from by the other minerals that were found in it. From memory, it was possible to track the source of the gold to within a square kilometre. I didn't know if it was transferable to element zero but I didn't want to take the chance of having someone claim that I had nicked it from Thessia or something. I got a nice little certificate from a very polite human saying that my eezo was genuine and from no known source. That worked wonderfully.

I was now sitting down at a café in Bachjret Ward near where I had run into the homeless girl just over a week ago. It wasn't an accident that I was here; I was hoping to run into the little girl again. Once I had given her those drinks for her and her little turian friend I had told her that if she ever sees me again then to come over and say 'hi' and I would buy her and her friends more food. She hadn't said anything, just nodded and disappeared.

I had been sitting at the café for the last hour, finishing a few job advertisements for my crew now that I would likely be able to afford expanding. The loss of Sel meant I needed a new engineer or two, now that I was going to have the credits to expand the crew.

A scuffling of feet nearby broke my concentration and I looked up to see a familiar, somewhat dirty, face. The little girl that had stolen from the salarian merchant when I was shopping for the _Hidden Enterprise_ , was standing next to the table looking up at me. She was a pretty little thing. Now that I was closer and getting a good look at her I realised she was slightly older than I thought, maybe six or seven years from the height of her, and very skinny. Her brown hair was a bit tatty and tangled and there were smudges on her face, showing off her life in the ducts.

"Hello," I said, giving her a welcoming smile. "Do you want something to eat?" I pushed my mostly uneaten food towards her.

She reached out with one skinny, dirty hand and grabbed half a sandwich. She ate it with a speed and an enthusiasm that left me feeling a little envious. Even though I had been free for the last three weeks now, I still had not regained the ability to eat normally. I only ate small portions of bland food. Even though I was hungrier now that I was exercising regularly, I was only having an extra snack, not a proper meal. My ability to eat different foods was coming back slowly but I had not yet been able to eat rich foods or anything too sweet.

Before I knew it the food had disappeared down the little girl's throat and she was wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Do you want me to order some more?" I asked, reaching towards the menu.

She shook her head and waved for me to follow her. She took off before I had even thought about it, heading towards an alley. I quickly paid for my meal and moved to follow her. i lost her a couple of times as she weaved through the crowds of foot traffic moving through the markets. Every time I lost her, I would move to the side and wait until she came back. She did every time, moving back to where I could see her and waving impatiently for me to catch up.

After a few minutes of chasing after her she ducked down a side alley in a quieter area, disappearing from view. I looked around and, not seeing anything suspicious, moved into the alley.

It looked like the alleyway was used as the back door to several businesses. There were garbage disposal units and some scattered rubbish that had fallen free. There was no foot traffic anywhere.

There was also no little girl.

I looked around for a duct opening, trying to see where she might have disappeared. There was one further down the alley that looked like it lead to what might be considered 'underground', if I wasn't on a space station. There was one up ahead about fifty meters away. I didn't remember the girl having that much of a lead on me, but maybe she had starting sprinting once she was out of sight. Either way, I headed towards it.

"Looking for someone, slaver?" a flanged voice behind me asks.

I turn around slowly. By this point I was about thirty meters into the alley. Standing about halfway between me and the entrance back into the street beyond was the young girl and a turian that didn't look quite fully grown. I didn't have enough experience with turians yet to get an accurate guess on his age but from how he looked compared to the other turians I had seen walking around the Citadel I was thinking he would probably be the equivalent of a late teenager. Maybe about seventeen in human years.

Oh, and he was holding a knife in one hand.

"I am no slaver," I said, feeling remarkably calm. It was almost like my body knew what to do. I guess I kinda had been through something similar before so I wasn't all that inexperienced in this type of situation.

"Liar," the turian growled, his fists starting to glow blue. I tensed up a little. I had not ever faced a biotic attack and I had no idea how good this kid was. But seeing as he was young and hanging around with the homeless… actually, he looked nearly as dirty as the girl did, now that I focussed on him. He was probably one of them. Either way, I didn't think that he was likely trained to use biotics.

"You slavers need to start using new tricks," he spat. "Trying to be friendly with the _duct rats_ before you drug them and take them as slaves!" The blue glow started to focus around his hands. He was clearly powering up an attack. "Pathetic."

"I am not a slaver," I repeated, trying to keep calm. It was getting harder to do, seeing as he was threatening me with something I had never had experience fighting against. A twitchy homeless turian with trust issues was a little outside my expertise of either defusing or fighting.

"LIAR!" he screamed and let go of a biotic pulse. A _huge_ biotic pulse. It was a ball more than a meter in diameter and flew towards me.

I dove to the side, managing to get away from the ball but not completely away from the pressure that followed around it like a shockwave. It pushed me into the wall, even though I had not actually been hit by the glowing blue ball. The ball itself continued down the alley until it dissipated more than fifty meters away.

I looked back at the turian and the girl, feeling apprehensive. That was a hell of a powerful attack. Even with my lack of knowledge on biotics, that seemed overly powerful. Damn.

I got back to my feet and got ready to defend against another attack. Or rather, dodge it. I had no desire to see how it felt getting hit by something that powerful.

"Don't attack me, you idiot!" I yelled at the turian. "I am not a damn slaver!"

"Don't lie!" the turian kid screamed. "I know how slavers act! You play nice and make friends with us then you kidnap us and make us slaves! You won't get us! I won't let you!" He started to glow again.

I came up with a frantic idea. I yanked up the sleeves on my shirt. "Do these look like slaver marks to you?" I demanded, holding up my arms so they could see my scars.

He visibly hesitated. I still didn't have much experience in dealing with turians in general so while I saw that his mandible twitched open slightly I had no idea what that meant, but I was willing to guess that it might mean 'uncertain'. I took advantage of his distraction to pull up my shirt and show the scars all over my stomach and chest, keeping my face free to see what they would do. The turian seemed to freeze and the blue glow of biotics faded. The little girl's mouth had dropped open and she looked both shocked and concerned.

I let my shirt drop back down and pulled my sleeves back into their normal positions. "Do you believe me now?" I asked sarcastically.

The little girl's went up and down in such a way that I thought she might lend her services out as a jackhammer. The turian youth paused for a long moment, before he finally nodded once. Good enough. I walked towards them and, despite the lack of glowing biotics, I saw him grip his knife a little tighter.

"Now," I said, stopping a few steps in front of the pair of youngsters. "What is your name?"

He looked at me for a long moment, his mandible clenched tight against his face. She just stared up at me with big eyes, still looking surprised.

"Torrin," he said finally. "Torrin Jogon."

I looked at him for a moment, trying to remember all of the turian names I had ever come across in the games. They had all seemed to have an old Roman or Greek feel to them; Arterius, Fedorian, Vakarian. I know that this is an alien civilisation but the name Jogon didn't fit into that very well.

"Is that really your name?" I asked.

He looked down. "Torrin is," he mumbled. "I gave myself the name Jogon. It was the name of an old krogan I met after I ran away. He was the one that taught me to be strong on my own."

"I see," I replied. I looked at the girl. "And what's your name?"

She just blinked at me, saying nothing.

"She doesn't speak your language," Torrin said. "At least, not one we can recognise. We, uh, usually talk through our own sign language." He lifted his hands in a gesture that reminded me of exasperated hand waving in humans. "It can be pretty confusing when she does something new. Even my omni-tool doesn't recognise it." He held up his hand to emphasise his point.

I looked at the little girl. She could speak but not in a recognised language. She was human, with what I would recognise as a Caucasian complexion, a soft brown hair colour and bright blue. That made the Asian languages unlikely. I didn't know how to speak any other language fluently, but I knew how to say hello in a lot of them. The benefits of multiculturalism. Also, a benefit for how similar the universes were. So I drew on the knowledge that I had gained on languages from the most helpful resource I had come to mind at that moment: the language menu off any DVD ever.

"Español?" I asked. She looked at me blankly. "Italiano? Français? Deutsch? Polski? Russia? Norsk? Svenska?"

She nodded, her face lighting up. "Svenska!" she exclaimed happily. Then she proceeded to jabber away at me in Swedish, as if she expected me to understand what she was saying. Torrin's mouth dropped a little and his mandibles opened up slightly. I guessed that meant surprise.

I chuckled and held up my hands to stop her. I activated my omni-tool and searched for a link for a Swedish to English translator. I hoped that they had one. I also really hoped it wasn't as bad as trying to get direct translations from google translate. I don't know too much about the learning and mapping of a language for the Codex that the galaxy used but I figured that seeing as there were more than a hundred languages on my Earth then it stood to reason that it would take time to add the non-major languages like English or Mandarin.

It took me nearly ten minutes of just standing there going through the Alliance records of languages while Torrin just stood where he was, fidgeting and the girl had a big hopeful smile on her face. Finally I found what I was looking for: a Swedish to English language mod that could be downloaded and applied to an omni-tool. It wasn't a standard app and there was no direct Swedish to High Thessian or Palava translations, which meant that everything first had to be translated into English, then retranslated to the specific language. Now I _really_ hoped that there wouldn't be a google translate issue.

I downloaded the mod and selected broadcast mode too. The girl didn't have an omni-tool so mine would provide both translations.

Now," I said looking at the girl, "what is your name?"

She gave me a beautiful smile that warmed my heart a little. "Klara."

I smiled back. It actually felt genuine. There was something about the little girl that was heart-warming and charming. "Good to meet you Klara. My name is Brock Neilson."

I straightened and looked at Torrin. "So, do you want to stay talking in an alley, or do you want something to eat?"

As they led the way out of the alley, I looked around and got an idea. I quickly sent off a message to Hectar, saying I needed to see him in an hour.

Ten minutes later we were in a café of Torrin's choosing. I told them to order whatever they wanted and I would pay for it. Torrin tensed up again when I said that. Clearly he still didn't trust me. Klara just gave a big smile and held out a menu towards me. I read out the options and she listened to the translation before pointing to what she wanted. An asari waitress walked over and took the orders. I noticed that Torrin's eyes followed her closely as she walked away.

"Careful kid," I cautioned lightly. "Not all women appreciate being drooled over by adolescents."

His mandible clenched again and he looked away hurriedly. I chuckled good naturedly. It was almost the exact same as making fun of teenage boys and girls about whoever their crushes were.

I let them both eat without interruption while I sipped at the water I had ordered for myself. Had I not known better, I would have sworn that Klara hadn't eaten half of my food earlier. The girl seemed to have a bottomless stomach. I had to slow her down. I knew from experience that eating too much after being starved was a fast way to tasting it twice. Once on the way down, once on the way up.

Finally they both seemed to have eaten their fill. Klara sat back in her chair, rubbing her now protruding stomach. Torrin made a few contended noises as he wiped away the last few crumbs from his mandibles.

"Now, let's talk," I said, looking at the turian evenly.

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

"You don't trust adults, do you?" I asked, figuring on starting with an obvious question.

He quickly shook his head. "No one here looks out for the homeless," he spat. "Asari talk about helping but they never really do. Most adults tend to look down on us. They call us ducts rats and other names. Most of the rest are slavers. They only try to be nice so that they can take us later." He gave me a hard look. "That's why I thought you were one. After you met Fingers here," he gestured to Klara, "there was a group of slavers that came for her group. Only her and two others got away."

Huh. I guess that explains the suspicion. Still, I felt a little annoyed to have been associated with slavers. I violent twitch ran through my right hand that I suppressed immediately.

"Well, I had I nothing to do with it," I said. "I just helped Klara here to get away from some salarian merchant she had stolen from and gave her a drink because I felt sorry for her. After all, I highly doubt anyone chooses to live in the ducts as a first choice." So I felt sorry for her and her little turian friend, obviously it wasn't you, and bought them a drink each."

"You wouldn't be the first person to buy things for us as a way to make us think you are our friend," Torrin growled. "Slavers do that a lot too."

I clench my jaw for a moment, before letting out the angry with a long sigh. "Alright," I finally said, keeping my voice as neutral as possible. "What do you need to know before you will trust me when I say that I am not a slaver?"

He looks at me directly. "How did you get your scars?"

I stare at him for a moment. "From bad people who did bad things," I replied. I know I was being evasive, but honestly, I didn't really want to scare them. More specifically, I didn't want to scare Klara.

Torrin sat back in his chair and crossed his grey scaly arms. "I need more than that," he bit out. Obviously this kid wasn't going to let up that I wasn't a slaver. As annoying as that was I couldn't really blame him. I had seen some very manipulative people during my time as a prison guard. I hadn't really met any slavers yet but I could imagine that they were some of the best groomers around, especially on the Citadel where violent abductions were probably frowned upon.

I looked at Klara. She was just a kid, not even ten. She didn't need to hear this.

"Fine," I said eventually. "But not in front of her." I gestured to the girl.

He gave me what I assume was a turian glare. It looked angry enough. "Why not?" he demanded. "She has seen bad things before. Even saw some dead kids that got caught up in one of the ventilation fans."

I narrow my eyes and give him a cool glare. "Because the things that happened still give me nightmares," I said, feeling the anger starting to build up. I let it come out a little in my voice, trying to be a little intimidating. "She doesn't need to have them too."

It seemed to work. He sat back in his chair and he didn't seem as certain, I think. Still working on translating turian body language. Klara just looked at me with a sympathetic expression. It was really cute.

"It's ok," she said, her voice coming across a little tinny from the translator. "I know that bad things happen. I am sorry that bad things happened to you." She put her little hand on my arm. It made my heart melt a little. It was an action that reminded me of what Jason would do if he saw someone who was upset. It immediately pushed away all my anger and made me feel an echo of melancholy through my heart.

"I know that you do, Klara," I said softly. "I just wish that you didn't need to see more."

I sat back and looked at Torrin again. "I will give you the basics," I finally relented. "I was taken from my bed, held captive and tortured for nine months before I managed to escape and killed everyone that hurt me. These," I lifted up my hands to show my wrists, "were from when I escaped from the chains that held me. This," I pulled at the collar of my shirt to show the large jagged circular scar on my right shoulder that was surrounded by other small, unrelated scars, "I got from a butchers hook that was shoved through my shoulder." I let the shirt go and let my scars be covered up again. Torrin's mouth had dropped open while Klara just looked sad.

"Satisfied now?" I finished sarcastically, focusing on Torrin.

I felt something grab me and I jumped slightly and looked to see that Klara was hugging me. I hesitated. It was the first time I had been hugged by a child in… a long time. I slowly reached an arm down and gave her what was admittedly an awkward hug. It probably looked more like someone patting a dog that didn't belong to them, but it just kinda hung around their feet. But… it felt good. Pure. I missed hugging Jason and this… this made me feel like I was getting a little something back that I had been missing. I almost thought it was a bit of my humanity but that sounded corny and overly dramatic when I said it in my own head. Whatever it was, I had been missing it. She wasn't my kid, but that didn't matter at the moment.

We let go at the same time and she went back to her seat.

"She does that," Torrin cut in dryly, ruining the moment and bringing me back to the present. "Even when she couldn't speak to people she would know if they were upset and she would hug them."

"She must have a wonderfully compassionate heart," I said, smiling down at her and receiving a big smile back.

"So what happens now?" Torrin asked, shifting in his seat. He looked a little uncomfortable.

"We talk," I said. "How long have you been on the Citadel?"

"A few years now," he replied. "I left Palavan when I was ten and got here I think it was about four years later. I just kept sneaking onto ships and going where ever they headed. Fingers here has been living in the tunnels for about a year."

"Why do you call her Fingers?" I asked.

"Because no one could understand her when she said anything so she just used her hands to point at stuff. Someone called her Fingers and it just stuck."

"Ok," I said slowly. "Why is a biotic turian kid hiding in the tunnels on the Citadel and protecting the homeless kids instead of being drafted into the Cabal special forces?"

He froze for a moment. "That's none of your business," he growled.

I raised my hands, letting my sleeves fall back down to expose my wrists. "I showed you mine," I said evenly.

He looked at the scars for a long moment. Then he sighed. "Fine," he grumbled. "Not all turians on Palavan look at having biotics as a good sign. No one seems to have any issue with the asari having them but even though we have been part of the Council space for more than thousand years, the idea of a turian biotic still concerns some people. Not the military though. They love them. My parents thought that me being a biotic wasn't great. Felt like it made me less of a turian and more of an asari. They just… handed me over to the military when I was six. The scientists realised that I was pretty strong and they put some sorta experimental biotic amp in me, one that would be better suited to a stronger biotic. Then they ran _tests_ on me. No matter how much I asked them to stop, they just kept going, saying it was 'for the Hierarchy'." He grunted in displeasure. "It didn't take long for me to hate doing anything for the benefit of the Hierarchy. Eventually I managed to escape and hid on a shuttle that made its way to a spaceport and took the first cargo ship I could find off planet. Made my way through turian space for a while. No one asked questions after I got off at any stop. I only got caught on ship a few times and they would put me to work if they found me. Most cargo captains were good. I lived on the streets and in shelters wherever I stayed and finally I made it here."

"Ok," I said. "But the Citadel has biometric security and hundreds of scanners everywhere. How have you avoided getting caught?"

"There have been a few close calls," Torrin admitted. "But when you stay in the ducts and tunnels below the surface, no one seems to care. Most people look the other way, as if they never saw any of us. I stole the omni-tool to be able to talk to people and sometimes people we know give us food but mostly not so we steal it or take it from the bins behind restaurants."

It made me think of the ME2 storyline of Thane dealing with Mouse. Then something came to mind.

"So if you have been living on the streets for the last, what, seven or eight years, then who taught you biotics?" I asked.

He gave a shrug. "The scientists helped me to channel them but they didn't teach me any techniques. I had to learn most of it on my own. I can only really do push and barrier though."

"Still, impressive. And dangerous." I turned to Klara. "What about you? How did you end up living in the tunnels?"

"My mummy was killed by some batarians when we got here," she said sadly, looking at the floor. "They were robbing a bank my mummy was in and she was shot. Daddy started to get angry all the time. He was drinking things that made him angry. One day he got really mad and hit me. I hid from him until he went to sleep. Then daddy wouldn't wake up. I ran away after that."

My heart went out to the little girl. No one that small should be left to live as an orphan on the streets. I decided to ask of something I had been thinking about since I ran into her the first time.

"If you had the option, would you stay somewhere other than the tunnels?" I asked.

"What do you mean?" Torrin asked a little suspiciously.

"I mean, if you had a proper house or something to stay in, would you prefer to stay there?"

He hesitated. "Uh, that depends," he said slowly.

Before he could continue Hectar appeared and walked up to the table.

"Hey Captain, you wanted me?" he asked, rubbing his hands together nervously.

I looked at the time on my omni-tool. "Ah Hectar, you're early," he greeted warmly. "I looked at Torrin. "Convinced that I'm not a slaver yet?" I asked rhetorically. One of the few universal truths was that no quarian would ever work willingly for a slaver.

I looked back at Hectar. "Just give me a minute, Hectar, and I will be right with you."

He nodded and walked away to give us some privacy.

"Look," I said to both the urchins. "I need to meet with my technician to prepare for a meeting. Meet me here in two days at lunch time and we can talk again. Assuming that I live that long," I added with a grim smile.

They nodded and ran off together back towards the alley they had attacked me in. I paid the bill and headed over to where Hectar was waiting. Time to see how prepared we could be for this meeting with Tevos.

 **...**

 **A/N Please Follow/Favourite/Review as you please.**

 **For those that didn't realise, Torrin is the OCS. He will be coming up more in a couple of chapters and will be integrated into the main story. Hope you enjoyed him. Thanks again to Sornosquinfallen for the idea. If anyone else has an OCS they want to put forward, PM them to me and I will consider them. No guarantees though. I will only put them in if I can find the right way to include them in the story, regardless of how good they might be.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N I own nothing. Mass Effect is owned by Bioware**

 **Longest chapter yet!**

 **OK this chapter was both a challenge to write and still pretty fun. I know that there may be some conflicting ideas on how it turned out but overall I am pretty happy with it. Unfortunately there may be a delay between this chapter and the next one due to school work but I will continue with it, so for those who are enjoying the story, don't fear!**

 **Also, something I wanted to mention for the future: in this story there are going to be stories from the MC about things that happened in his time as a prison guard. Thankfully, due to the fact that I happen to know a few prison guards, the stories about the MC's work will nearly all be true! Or at least, the guards I know swear they are true. Either way, it should be interesting!**

 **Comments:**

 **Sornosquinfallen, frankieu, rfpizzle, samuel9898 - Thanks!**

 **Artyom-Dreizehn, Nipplegunz – Well, wouldn't you want a cabal in your team?!**

 **GreyDragon0 – with any luck, both.**

 **Rangle – Well, I was going for more 'excessively tortured person in a strange environment' but it is tricky to pull off. However, as he grows accustomed there should be less emo moments. Well, maybe not next chapter… Still, I appreciate the criticism.**

 **Mk0008 – Here it is.**

 **Madman123456 – Interesting proposal. I had already had something in mind in that regards, but after reading your comments I think I might need to change it up a little. Thanks for that. And hope things with your job don't get too bad**

…

 **CHAPTER 10 – TO MEET A COUNCILLOR**

I woke up the morning of the meeting a little nervous. After all, I was about to try and measure dicks, metaphorically, with one of the three most powerful individuals in the galaxy.

Luckily, this was not my first time encountering dangerous and influential people. When I had worked as a prison officer, I had dealt with some pretty dangerous drug lords, gang leaders, your everyday psychopaths, sociopaths and nut bags. Sure, there were plenty of low level crims in there but when you stand in front of one of the dangerous ones as he challenges you, you learn how to handle yourself in those situations pretty quick. As my mentor told me, 'learning on the job at its finest'. And seeing as the best solution to resolving those issues was, more often than not, to talk my way out of it rather than fight my way out of it, I thought I should be at least ok while talking to Tevos.

So while I was nervous, I was not catatonic. It felt more like a job interview, in all honesty. The main thing was that I needed to have a clear head and do my best to take charge of this meeting.

There were four things that I had in place to use to my advantage, should things get out of hand. And by that, I mean the asari councillor decided to play dirty. The first was that I could just say 'no' and make an appointment with the salarian councillor, I think his name was Valern. Everyone knew Sparatus was the turian councillor because the guy was basically an anti-human douchebag. I would rather not deal with him if I could avoid it.

The second thing was my knowledge of the prothean beacon on Thessia. That was an ultimate last resort though. If it came down to revealing that at the wrong time or walking away, I would probably just walk away.

The third thing was a little something that I had Hectar fix up for me. After having been jumped by Torrin and Klara in the alley yesterday I had wondered about how to avoid walking into traps like that unknowingly again. I remembered something from the film The Dark Knight, how there was that program that Batman used to turn every phone into a 3D imager of the entire city. Naturally, that tech, if it was even possible to create a fictional piece of equipment like that, was highly unlikely to be available. However, I had another idea. Sonar. That is where a submarine sends out a signal then they receive the rebounding ping that basically gives a map of anything in their way. Except I wanted it to be more like an ultrasound where it can give me a full image of what's behind a target. So, I had Hectar rig up a program that makes my omni-tool send out a sensor ping similar to an ultrasound. It makes a 3D map of everything in range which I can see on my omni-tool. The ping is essentially a sound burst that is sent out on a frequency that can't be heard by any of the known species in the galaxy. It is powerful enough to be able to penetrate a thin to moderate wall but only has a limited range of about five meters. I was able to test it out for a little while on the ship. I am hoping that if Tevos decides to try anything, like a few commandos hidden behind a wall, then I will be able to know in advance and make a hasty retreat or call her bluff. It isn't much but it is something.

The fourth and final thing I have is a little bluff. It's a countdown timer. I set it to reach zero about three hours after my meeting finished. It didn't really do anything, but no one had to know that.

I got dressed and headed out to meet up with the three remaining members of my crew an hour before the meeting. It took another fifteen minutes of leisurely walking but I arrived at the front of C-SEC headquarters to see that I was the last one to arrive. Aleria was talking to Ely and Hectar was standing there, fiddling with his omni-tool. They girls noticed my approach and turned to face me. Hectar took a moment longer before he noticed and closed down the omni-tool. I gestured over to a quieter corner, away from the bustle of officers, informants and victims desperate to be heard by anyone in earshot of their problems.

"Alright," I began. "So is everyone ready?"

Aleria looked paler than usual but she gave a small nod. Ely nodded a few times then looked down at the ground. Hectar hesitated a long moment then shook his head.

I looked at him. "What's wrong Hectar? You feeling a little anxious?"

He looked up at me, his glowing eyes narrowing. "You're not?" he asked sarcastically.

I shrugged. "Anxious: no. Nervous: a little. But I don't think that everyone needs to worry. After all, those cheeky messages only had my named attached. You three should be safe. Though now that I think about it, it may be better to have you walk somewhere else. Go for a walk somewhere on the Citadel. Anywhere, it doesn't matter. Just don't tell us where you are until I give you a place to meet up with us. The password for an all clear will be 'cucumber sandwiches'. This may seem paranoid to all of you,' I said to the whole group of now rather confused and uncertain members of my crew. I stare at them flatly. "What? I am basically going to meet with a councillor who I am already been cheeky to. A councillor! She has resources and can call on any number of security personnel to make life difficult. I am just doing what I can to make sure that we all walk out of here, healthy and whole. I'd miss you all too much if something bad happened."

Aleria gave a playful smile. "Aww, you do care! Don't worry boss, you can play your games as much as you want if it puts your mind at ease." Considering how nervous she had seemed before, I had a feeling that this was her attempt to calm her own nerves. That or she was just trying to sound confident. Either way, I was grateful for the show of support.

Once the plan was made Hectar made his way out of C-SEC and headed off on his own. Ely and Aleria walked along with me towards the Presidium.

What isn't really shown in the games about the Presidium is that no one can really just go to the Presidium. You have to be approved to be allowed entry. It kinda flew in the face of any of the equalitarian people from my time. Here, the rich and powerful were literally separated from the rest of society. Everyone who goes there needs to be considered 'approved'. I had been put on the list of the approved people only because of my appointment with the asari Councillor, but Ely and Aleria had not. I had to show their employment details to the C-SEC guards manning the entrance to be allowed to have them with me. Even once they were cleared, we were escorted to the councillor's office. For some reason they seemed to have a real concern with allowing us to walk around the Presidium freely. My suspicions were confirmed when I walked past the C-SEC officer's terminal and it had orders to stay with us at all times posted in big, holographic letters… with 'from the office of Councillor Tevos' attached right next to it. Hmmm. Not a great start. We were then taken to an isolated security station and were given a _very thorough_ search for weapons. Or at least, I was. Not that I had anything. I still hadn't bought any weapons since I arrived

Quite obviously, Ely and Aleria were beginning to get angry about this too.

"Keep calm," I murmured to them. "Don't blame C-SEC. they are just doing what they're told." I couldn't help but feel a little sympathy towards the officer. I had been in his position of 'just doing what I was told' when dealing with prisoners back in my time.

Still, having the escort meant that we were able to arrive at the councillor's office ten minutes before the appointment was due to begin. The C-SEC officer told us he would be waiting for us for whenever our appointment was finished. Apparently, he had orders to do so. Another bad sign. I was starting to feel better about my safety precautions. Something about this whole meeting was really rubbing me the wrong way. I tried to shrug the feeling off and made my way to the reception desk. Time to get into this.

….

Ely walked up with Mr Neilson to the asari sitting at the reception desk, staying a small step to his left, while Aleria seemed to be doing the exact same to Mr Neilson's right.

"Hello, Brock Neilson to see Councillor Tevos," Mr… Brock said very politely; she had to get used to calling him that. Considering how they had been treated since their arrival at the Presidium he was certainly being a lot more polite than Ely felt like being right now.

The asari receptionist looked at him and immediately Ely could see a hint of condescension and hostility in the blue women's face. It seemed fitting with the rest of their treatment.

"I'm sorry, but for some reason, I have your appointment not being for another hour for now," she said, her voice mockingly sweet. "You'll need to come back later."

Ely stiffened at the very obvious slight and shared a quick look with Aleria. The pilot looked just as angry as she felt. What was with the arrogance this woman was showing? No, she realised. It wasn't this woman. It had to be Tevos behind this. First C-SEC, now her personal receptionist. Ely was just glad that her mask hid her facial expressions. Not that it mattered. Aleria looked mad enough for the both of them.

Curiously, Brock wasn't mad at all. In fact, he even favoured the receptionist with a little smile. "There must be a mistake of some kind," he said calmly, bringing up his omni-tool. He fiddled around with it for a few moments before he said softly, "I know it's here somewhere," as if he was merely talking to himself.

Ely's omni-tool pinged with a received message. She ignored an annoyed glance in her direction from Aleria and opened it up. _What?_ She thought to herself, feeling a nugget of confusion. It was from Brock, who was standing less than three feet from her. She looked at him briefly but he ignored her, apparently engrossed in his omni-tool. She opened the message.

 _Don't react! I need you to hack the receptionist's desk and turn on the intercom to the office. Can you do that? Cough for yes, sneeze for no. If you do, cough a second time once you are done._

He needed her to hack the intercom? She looked at the terminal on the desk in front of her. It looked pretty standard. Should be fairly straightforward. She wasn't as much into tech as Hectar was. If he had been here there would have been no question about it being done. She wasn't as good as he was but she was no slouch. Plus, while they had been working together down in engineering, Hectar had been able to look at her hacking programs and modify them.

She coughed. Then she got to work.

In the background she vaguely kept tabs on the conversation.

"Ah here it is," Brock announced. "Sorry, it's a new omni-tool. I keep forgetting where things are on here. Now as you can see here…"

The encryption on the receptionist's desk was pitiful; not what she expected for the councillor. It took less than four seconds to breach the outer firewalls. Once inside, there were further files that she could access. Wait, the receptionist was looking at _drell porn_? At _work_? Somehow it was both fascinating and disgusting at the same time. She took a screen shot, making sure that the user ID for the receptionist was visible. She may be a Pilgrim but even she knew that blackmail at all levels was useful.

"… Councillor Tevos had to change it," the receptionist was saying snidely, still in that mock sweet tone. It was beginning to grate on Ely's nerves. "These things happen from time to time."

She continued on and found the control. She activated it and coughed, then closed down her omni-tool. She wanted to watch the show. The receptionist, as focussed as she was on Brock, didn't notice anything.

Brock's face immediately changed to that of a person fighting a smile for a small second. He leaned forward, keeping a polished fake smile of his own as he did so.

"I see," he said calmly. "I'm sorry, in my haste I don't believe that I caught your name."

The asari raised one tattooed eyebrow. "It's Maryssa."

He just continued giving that false smile. Something inside Ely started to get a little excited. She had a strong feeling that something amazing was about to happen.

"Maryssa, what a beautiful name," he said, almost sounding sincere and still incredibly polite. "Well, Maryssa, let me tell you what is about to happen. You are going to look me in the eye, apologise for wasting my rather precious time and that of my crew here. Then you are going to say these exact words: 'The councillor will see you now.' You will do this because if you don't I will turn right around and leave the Presidium. Then I shall make a call to the salarian councillor, get an appointment immediately, and the economy of the Asari Republics will take such a hit that it may never fully recover its dominance during your rather long life. And to top it all off, I will ensure that the Council of Matriarchs on Thessia knows that the blame for their losses can be placed solely on the shoulders of a petty functionary who thought that it would be a good idea to annoy me and the councillor who thought to try my patience." He turned his head slightly, looking at the terminal. "Is that understood, Councillor Tevos?" His voice never deviated from its pleasant tone, in spite of his words.

"Perfectly, Mr Neilson," Tevos' irritated voice came from the desk speaker, causing the receptionist to nearly jump out of her fancy dress.

"Councillor," Maryssa stammered. "I didn't…"

"That's enough," Tevos interrupted snappishly. "I'll deal with you later, Maryssa. Send Mr Neilson and his… crew in." The intercom clicked off.

A long awkward moment passed as the receptionist stared at her terminal, her face pale with horror.

"T-the councilor w-will see you now," she stammered not looking up.

To Ely's surprised, Brock didn't move a muscle. He just kept staring at the receptionist expectantly. Nothing happened at all for a long moment. Ely wondered what was happening.

Finally, he raised an eyebrow. "I'm still waiting for that apology, Maryssa," he said, calmly.

She flushed a deep purple. "I'm..." she started not looking up.

"Uh uh," he interrupted, his tone still pleasant. "You will look me in the eye as you apologise for wasting my time and that of my crew. As I instructed you."

The asari's face went even darker purple as she glared at him, clearly livid. It looked like she wanted to leap over the desk and attack the human. With visible effort, she composed herself. "I'm sorry for wasting your time and that of your crew, Mr Neilson," she bit out.

He gave a dazzling smile that looked like it might have been actually genuine. It made Ely smile behind her mask. "And on behalf of myself and my crew, I accept your apology," he stated firmly. "Now, you have a pleasant day." With that he walked past the desk and headed towards the office beyond, leaving the fuming secretary glaring impotently at his back.

Ely looked at Aleria. The asari pilot had her mouth gaping in open wonder. She snapped it shut and let out a tiny squeal. "That was awesome!" she whispered. "I don't know how on Athame's bodice you did that, but that was simply amazing! I don't even care if Tevos has us arrested now, I am just glad I got to see that happen." Ely fully agreed that no matter what happened in this meeting, the encounter with the receptionist had been fully worth it.

"Well, it wouldn't have worked out nearly so well if it wasn't for our charming ships specialist here," he said modestly, gesturing to Ely.

Ely felt her face grow warm and rubbed a hand on the side of her mask, in embarrassment. "Thanks Brock. Oh," she said quickly as they reached the door, "I have to do something for the receptionist on the way out. I think you both will love it."

They both looked at her curiously. Brock gave them both a tight grin. "All right," he said softly. "Game faces on now. I want you to watch the councillor closely for any reactions she has to what gets said. And be careful; taking on the reception was child's play to how this is going to be. Just remember, leave all the talking to me."

The bubble of amusement popped inside Ely's stomach and she felt whatever remained of it form into a solid lump of anxiety in the lower part of her stomach. Aleria's face went a little paler purple than usual as she lost her smile.

Brock though, he straightened his back, lost the faint smile he had been wearing for the secretary and merely looked passive and composed, far more composed than Ely felt. How did he manage to do that?

He palmed the door open and they walked in.

…

Aleria walked in after Brock as he entered the councillor's office, fighting the fluttering nerves and doing her best to keep her face neutral. She knew she was only partially successful in doing so and was looking at Brock's face, feeling a little envious that he managed to look so calm. _And people say that the asari are the natural diplomats_ , she thought to herself.

The office was larger than the cockpit on the _Hidden Enterprise_ and there were artworks from around the Asari Republics scattered tastefully around the room. It almost looked like an art gallery. Some of these pieces must have cost more than the _Enterprise._ _The bonus of being on the Council_ , Ely thought wryly.

The councillor was sitting at her desk but stood up as they entered. She was wearing a red dress with white highlights that worked perfectly with her dark purple skin and facial tattoos, much to Aleria's envy. The matriarch seemed to be flawless in her style in such a deceptively casual way that Aleria didn't think she could ever achieve sitting in a pilot's seat.

"Mr Neilson," Tevos greeted coolly. "Please take a seat."

There were only two chairs in front the councillor's desk. Aleria walked forward and stood behind them, Ely moved and stood next to her. Neither of them moved to sit down.

To her surprise, Brock didn't move towards either of the chairs. Instead he moved around the borders of the office, peering at the various paintings and tapestries lining the wall. He opened up his omni-tool and walked slowly around the office walls, his gaze alternating between the artworks and his 'tool.

Oh that's right, he wanted he to watch Tevos's reactions. She turned back to look at the older asari, who was following Brock as he walked around the office walls. The matriarch's face was showing open irritation at his ignoring of her instruction.

"I am in rather a rush, Mr Neilson," she said tightly, glaring at the human's back. "I don't have the leisure of sitting around all day threatening people."

"Threatening?" he asked innocently as he stepped in front of a painting of the statue of Athame, from the Temple of Athame on Thessia. Aleria knew that one. Every asari knew that painting. "My dear councilor, I am not threatening anyone! In fact, I am trying to prevent damage to the Republics by coming here. I am doing this for you and your people's wellbeing. In fact, really, I am doing this for the benefit of the whole galaxy."

Tevos narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Brock merely stared at the painting, not bothering to turn around and look at her.

"I am still have a lot of work to do, Mr Neilson," she finally said.

"And yet you will humour me for a few moments as penance for your actions earlier today and for the actions of your secretary," he replied without looking at her.

"What actions are you speaking of?" she asked, her brow furrowing slightly in confusion. It looked genuine as far as Aleria could tell.

"The orders that came from your office for C-SEC to treat us as suspicious persons, to be given, somewhat invasive, physical searches and to not be allowed movement anywhere without an officer escorting us," he said, his tone colouring slightly with annoyance. "I understand the need to have security here in the Presidium, more so for your office, but to see on the officer's terminal that such excessively overbearing treatment came 'at the order of Councillor Tevos' was an unnecessary burden to darken our meeting before it began." He finally stared over his shoulder at her, eyes narrowed in distaste.

The councillor's brow furrowed further. "But I didn't…" she stopped. Then she pressed a button on her desk. "Maryssa?

"Yes, Councillor?" the receptionist replied through the intercom.

"I am going to ask you a question and I want you to think very carefully before you answer," Tevos continued stiffly. "Did you send a message in my name to C-SEC telling them to pay extra attention to Mr Neilson and his crew and to treat them suspiciously?"

A long pause came through the intercom. Aleria felt a trill of vindication as she realized that the receptionist had to be sweating. After all, the asari officer that had searched her had been _very_ touchy with her hands while doing the search.

"Yes, Councillor," the receptionist finally replied.

"Call Anthalees to replace you," Tevos said coldly, her face hardening. "You will lose the rest of the day without pay and I will deal with you later."

"Yes, Councillor." The line went dead with a click. Aleria spared a brief look to Brock, to see that he was staring at the asari councilor with an expression of polite interest.

Tevos closed her eyes and raised her hands to rub her temples. Then she let out a deep sigh and turned back to Brock. "It seems I owe you an apology, Mr Neilson," she said, her voice now carrying only a trace amount of bitterness. "While the manner you sought an appointment can be considered crude, brash and heavy-handed, it does not justify petty retaliation by someone claiming to use my name."

Aleria bit her tongue to prevent her from speaking against the councillor, feeling angry at the statement. There hadn't even been an apology in her words!

She needn't have worried. Brock gave a small chuckle. "How very _political_ of you, Councillor," he said, looking back at the painting, his back towards Tevos. He seemed very fascinated with it for some reason that Aleria couldn't understand. "You attempt to smooth things over in half a sentence but offer an insult in the other half of the sentence. And you appear to have also forgotten the actual apology. If you are going to be insulting but skip out on the original apology, why bother with the show of dismissing the wrongdoer in the first place?"

Tevos's jaw noticeably clenched as she appeared to fight back an angry response of her own. She took another deep breath and let it out slowly. "You're right, I apologise." It came out sounding very forced in Aleria's opinion.

Apparently it was enough for Brock though. "Apology accepted," he said, keeping his tone gracious. Aleria was truly impressed with how he had held himself during the meeting so far.

"This is a fascinating statue," he continued into her thoughts. "The goddess Athame, I take it? From the Temple of Athame on Thessia?"

"Yes," Tevos replied, her voice, still tinged with annoyance but starting to even out to a more conversational level. "One of the oldest statues still in existence in Council space. Save the protheans, of course."

"Indeed." For some reason he sounded amused. Aleria resisted the urge to look at him, doing her best to follow his instruction to focus on her fellow asari. "You know, I find this statue truly incredible. After all, what secrets must her creators held as they encased her likeness in the stone?"

Tevos's eyes narrowed slightly for just a moment. It was so slight and so quick that Aleria almost missed it. She must really be getting impatient to start with the actual meeting.

"But you know, religious artifacts like these, they are always so much more than they appear," the human's voice carried through the office. "Religion itself usually is, but artifacts such as this, this particular _ancient_ statue, it is far, far more than the stone that makes it, or the face that it carries." His voice now had dropped to a volume slightly above a whisper. "There are things that I know I see when I look at this statue. Things most people wouldn't realise they saw." He slowly turned to look at the councillor with the ghost of a smile on his face.

At that, Tevos's face definite tightened. Her posture changed ever so slightly, opening up slightly. Aleria saw her hands clench into fists briefly. "And what is that?" the matriarch asked, her voice soft and challenging. It almost sounded like she was threatening Brock, but that didn't make any sense.

"Hope," the reply from the human came. "Guidance. The realization that there is something out there, something we can turn to in times of need. That hope is far more important than most people realise. Take it from a person who spent a great deal of time living without hope that hope is one of the most precious things that we sentient beings can have."

Tevos visible relaxed at his words. At the same time she sent him a confused and uncertain look. Something was going on here, Aleria realized. Something that only Brock seemed to know but Tevos seemed to trying to catch up on. He was, dare she think it, toying with one of the three most powerful individuals in the galaxy. It struck Aleria with another feeling of amazement.

"But enough about art and religion," Brock continued, taking two steps past the painting and coming to a stop at an empty part of the wall. "Should we begin this meeting, or are we waiting for someone else?"

"No, we are not waiting for anyone else," Tevos replied, her voice once more returning to the business-like tone that she used in all the vids.

"Oh, good," he said. Then he knocked three times on the wall with his knuckles. "You can come out now. The councillor says you are not needed for this meeting."

Aleria stared in open mouthed amazement as after a few seconds pause, a previously unseen panel opened and a salarian male in expensive-looking armour and a vicious looking pistol on his hip came out of a hidden passage into the office proper. Brock looked at Tevos with an expression of wry skepticism.

"Just the receptionists fault, huh?" he asked rhetorically. Aleria saw the matriarch's eye twitch slightly before a look of annoyance settled on her face.

He turned back to the salarian. "What's your name, Spectre?"

A trill of dread pulsed through Aleria. A _Spectre_?

The salarian now had Aleria's full attention, Tevos forgotten in the background.

He blinked his large eyes twice. "Jondum Bau."

Brock gave a single slow nod. "Are you here to kill us?"

The Spectre blinked and his head tilted back in a sign of surprise. "What? No! I am merely here for the protection of the asari councillor!" he exclaimed.

Brock looked back at Tevos, an eyebrow raised in polite disbelief. "You brought a salarian to listen while we talked about a confidential concern regarding the Asari Republic economy?" he asked incredulously. "A rather odd choice, Councillor Tevos. I could understand an asari Spectre, but I must say I misread you if you had another species join in to our subterfuge. Perhaps you feel more open than I had realized."

Aleria felt a little bad for the salarian, Spectre or not. He was looking back and forth between the human and the matriarch, looking for all the galaxy like he was trying to understand something that wasn't being said.

"I trust all of the Spectre's to be discrete and beyond reproach," Tevos countered mildly.

For some reason, that seemed to anger Brock. "Maybe," he said, his tone dismissive. "But maybe you should be a little more careful." He turned to the salarian. "Well, you can see that the councillor is perfectly fine and will remain so for a long time after our meeting is over. I would recommend that you send Spectre Bau away, Councillor Tevos, so that we can talk business but if you insist he stay then so be it."

Aleria looked back at Tevos, cursing herself for getting distracted. So much had happened already and the meeting itself hadn't even started yet!

Tevos's face tightened for a moment into an unreadable expression but relaxing to cool, measuring gaze. "No, thank you Spectre Bau," she said, her voice clearly containing a simmering anger. "You can wait out in the main area until I call you."

The salarian nodded and left through the main door. The room itself was full of tension as Brock and Tevos stared at each other, both of them stone-faced.

Brock broke first, letting a small smile breach his features. "Shall we start our meeting properly, Madam Councillor?"

…

I moved over to a seat directly across from Tevos, trying to settle my emotions. I had mostly expected there to be someone hiding in a hidden room or passage somewhere. After all, if I was one of the councillors and I was as suspicious of someone, as Tevos was obviously suspicious of me, then I would have had someone on standby myself.

The underlying hostility that was permeating the air was definitely not ideal as far as negotiations went. I know that asari are venerated as the 'diplomats of the galaxy' so I still had hope that a positive middle-ground could be reached here. Maybe even closer to my side. That's what I wanted: a positive outcome. Preferably one that didn't take away any of my freedoms. Like life.

I knew that I had gone hard and abrasive early on, even despite my soft tone of voice and polite words. I had been pushing Tevos since I first messaged her. That was on purpose. I wanted her to know that she couldn't just bully me around, as if I were beneath her. I didn't have much experience with dealing with politicians directly, but what I did understand was that a weak politician was often scorned and taken advantage of. A strong politician was respected. Maybe not well liked by the other side, but definitely respected. I knew that Tevos wasn't going to like me, but I damn well sure wanted to make sure that I wouldn't be easy to dominate.

As for keeping my head so far in this battle of wills… well, I had my time as a prison guard to thank for that. I had been threatened to my face. I had my family threatened to my face. I had been propositioned. I had all manner of polite and impolite conversations, both heated and ice cold exchanges, with big time and small time criminals. The funny thing was they respected strength too. And I had held at least some level of respect at one point.

Especially as most of those exchanges had to be done without using any force. It was only done through words. De-escalating a situation with aggravated prisoners by talking them down had been a specialty of mine.

As a result, I knew how to talk my way out of a situation. That was what I was counting on here.

The councillor sat across from me as I took my seat, her face still rigid and composed, yet clearly not pleased.

"Oh, do cheer up, Councillor Tevos," I said, trying to keep my voice light. "You look like you are trying to be the aggrieved party in this discussion.

Her left eye twitched. "And you believe otherwise?" she asked, her voice soft. Dangerous.

I raised an eyebrow of my own, fighting to clamp down on my annoyance. "Well, let's take a look at the facts," I said, keeping my voice still polite, but slightly cooler than I had been talking before. "I contacted you directly to talk about a matter that would concern the economy of the Republics. Due to other circumstances, I must act rather quickly on this issue and could not afford to wait the six weeks that you or your assistant proposed. Otherwise I would have had to open things up to the wider galaxy which would only hurt the status quo the galaxy currently operates on, specifically the asari. When my crew and I arrive for the meeting, we are accosted and suffered invasive treatment by C-SEC on orders from _your_ office. Receptionist or not, we felt violated and the orders came with your name attached," I said with a raised hand, cutting off Tevos before the purple matriarch could interrupt. "Then we arrive at your office only to be put off side by your receptionist. Then, when we make it into your office itself, you have a _Spectre_ hiding behind a false wall. A Spectre, for whom assassination is considered perfectly legal if they feel they are completing their mission. And you are annoyed at me for trying to save the asari economy, realising and not tolerating mistreatment suffered by myself and my crew and discovering a potential ambusher with government authority to kill me and my crew on sight." I sat back in my chair and gave her a level stare. "How am I to believe that I am not an injured party in this conversation?"

Tevos stared at me unblinking for a long moment, her face evaluating. "Very well," she finally replied. "If your actions truly are as noble as you believe then I do apologise. However, your methods for browbeating yourself into my office were hardly those of a person with pure intentions. It is easy to make rash judgements in that situation."

Ah, there it is. Asari diplomatic skill at last. I finally felt like we had reached a point where we had a chance of understanding. But I wasn't going to let myself relax too much. This was Tevos's domain. This was where she was most comfortable and had decades of experience at the least. If I lost focus then this whole endeavor was sunk.

"Very well," I said. "Now, straight to business. These are, as you no doubt already know, my crew members, Aleria N'Tavis and Ely'Hael nar Qarat. Ely, if you please?"

Ely moved forward and reached into a pouch, pulling out a small chip of eezo in her suited hand and placing it on the desk between the councillor and me. The dark purple asari stared at the eezo for a long moment.

"You have proof that this is not from any previously claimed element zero mines?" she asked, her voice now curious, not a trace of hostility in the question.

I opened up my omni-tool and brought up the certificate of authenticity from the mineralogist. Tevos took a good long look at it.

"It's a mineralogist on the Citadel," I offered helpfully. "That way, if you have doubts you can ask them directly."

She sat back and looked at me, her expression shrewd. "How much did you find?" she asked after another long pause.

I linked my omni-tool to hers and sent the data. She brought her glowing orange omni-tool up and scanned it. A small tic near her eye was the only sign that she gave when she read the amount.

She closed her 'tool down and cocked her head thoughtfully. "You know, this amount, while not insignificant, won't irreparably damage the Republics economy," she said evenly.

"Maybe, maybe not," I replied, keeping my tone unconcerned. "But I had one of my other quarrian crew members, one Hectar'Galon nar Fallir, run the numbers. According to him, that eezo could fully support the entire Migrant Fleet for more than fifty years. They have the largest navy in the galaxy, Councillor. More than twice the size of the salarians, if my numbers are right. Going by that alone, it would be more than a hundred years before the salarians need to come to the asari for a single drop of eezo."

I gave her a small smile, trying to let it look sad, almost apologetic. "And then there are other things to consider. Digging the eezo out of the mines on Thessia is labour. Sure, the eezo is there in great quantities, but there is still the labour costs of sending people into the mines, infrastructure to prevent collapse, safety guidelines for workers as established in Council law and any dredging that comes along with separating it from the dirt. This is just a large asteroid. Move it where you want, chip pieces off as needed and drop it off at a refinery. Much more simple. Cheaper. And if the salarians are thinking ahead, not only are the able to run their fleet and improve their ships, they would also invest in domestic technologies. And, because we know they are pretty smart, how long before they become more economical with it. Sure, it might only last just over a hundred years today, but fifty years from now, with plenty of cheap excess eezo to experiment with, they might be able to triple that. I do hear they are rather intuitive with technology," I added as an afterthought. "Or they could just keep what they need and sell the rest at a discount. Losing the salarian market would be one thing, but competing for a large chunk of the turian market? Maybe losing the hanar or elcor market? Or even the human? I know they are always looking for more eezo. After all, whoever has the eezo, rules the galaxy."

The councilor sat stock still during my pitch listening to every word I said patiently. I had to hand it to her. Now that she was no longer off balance from our early verbal sparring, she was much harder to read. Damn. I was hoping she would have taken a little longer to collect herself.

"Interesting claim," she said in a non-committal tone. "But the fact remains that it is just one asteroid. I don't believe that you truly realise how large the Asari Republics economy truly is."

"Oh, I disagree," I rebutted. "I know that it wouldn't really affect the amount of money that the Republics already has. After all, what is an asteroid compared to, what, four eezo heavy planets? But that isn't what this is about. It's about two things. Image and reliance."

For the first time, the councilor looked thoughtful. "What do you mean?"

"The asari have been the heavy hitter in the eezo market for millennia. Every galactic market comes to you looking for such a valuable resource. You basically have no competition. You are the undisputed leaders in the galactic market. Everyone relies on you. Even the newcomers for the next few millennia will start to feed at your trough, unless they come from a planet like Thessia." I paused to let that sink in. "So what happens when people _stop_ relying on you? The markets are a fickle thing. I know that, everyone knows that. A lack of confidence in a market can have a lasting impact on investment. A lack of confidence for a hundred years… well, I probably won't be around long enough to see the Republics recover from that. Investors fleeing for a new and upcoming market? New technologies to fight the dominance the asari have."

I deliberately turned to look in the general direction of the painting of Athame's statue.

I looked back to see Tevos's eyes narrow just a fraction. "For someone not part of the Republics economy, I imagine it will be a very exciting time," I press on casually. "And for the bystanders… well, what happens if they start believing there is another option than to rely on the asari producers? If we minor races believe we don't need to be your financial puppets? Oh sure, it won't last forever on one asteroid," I pause dramatically. "But I imagine that with a possible second and maybe even a third, it would be quite dramatic."

 _That_ got the matriarch's attention. "There are more?" she asked skeptically.

"There are always more asteroids," I replied evasively. "Maybe I know of them, maybe I don't. But the sale of this asteroid would guarantee first option to buy the next two as well. And just so you know, and these lovely ladies can confirm," I gestured to the Aleria and Ely behind me, "I found that one on my first try. I already have leads for more."

Tevos's eyes flickered to the ladies above me before looking back at me. She stared at me for a very long moment. I think a full two minutes passed where we just stared at each other. I could feel Ely starting to fidget a little.

"You know, I am trying to think of any reason why you would actually do this," Tevos finally said. "This seems very out of character to every human that I have come across. Most are not so… altruistic as this. I am trying to determine in what way you benefit. Why are you not trying to sell on the open market? Why have you not sold it to your own people?"

"Well, money, obviously" I replied bluntly. "A wealthy and motivated buyer is always something that every seller looks for. As for why I haven't sold it openly; tell you what. I am truly doing this for the sake of galactic stability. If you truly believe that the galaxy would be better if I sold it to someone else other than the Republics then you give me the word right now, Councillor Tevos, I will walk out that door," I gestured to the exit with a flick of my head, "and that asteroid will be up for auction to the highest bidder before the day is out. Is that what you think is best? Because I will do that this minute and stop wasting both of our time."

I waited a long minute. Tevos said nothing. I knew I had her then, and from her expression, she knew it too.

"That's what I thought," I said, keeping any gloating I felt from entering my voice. "As to your other question, I have no reason whatsoever to give the Systems Alliance a benefit if it causes a problem to the greater galaxy."

She cocked her head quizzically. "You are not a fan of your own government?"

I snorted. "You've met Ambassador Udina, I presume? If he is humanity's best representative, I can understand why the three big races don't have a high opinion of us."

A shadow of a smile flittered over Tevos's face. "I see," she said simply.

I let out a small sigh. "Councillor, the galaxy sits on a much more precarious balance than any of us would rather admit. Between Council space and the Terminus, between the conflicting economies, not to mention whatever the batarians and krogan are doing. Nothing is as stable as any of us would like things to be. Even as allies there are always competing interests between the Council races. It's true that I would likely get more than I will be offering you for the sale of this asteroid if I were to put it up for open auction. What matters more to me is that the balance of the galaxy as we know it is kept. I need the money that this asteroid will bring. There are a great many things that I plan to do with it; my business is depending on it. But I will take the slightly lesser value if it means that the galaxy stays stable for now."

Tevos stared at me, her look evaluating me. "It's not every day that I am taken by surprise, Mr Neilson," she said. "But you have managed to do that a few times today. I wonder how often you are likely to do so, if given the chance."

There wasn't anything to say to that so I sat there and waited for her to speak again.

"Many people view your race as young, ambitious and greedy," she continued after a moment. "Today, I think it is possible that you have shown me all three of those things. But you are willing to keep the balance of the galaxy as it is, to the benefit of the Republics. I can appreciate that."

She paused for a long moment. I stayed silent. "I think we can do business," she finally said softly.

I let a soft genuine smile of satisfaction out and bowed my head towards the councillor.

We spent the next twenty minutes or so discussing prices and logistics. It was agreed that asari would pay three percent above market value for unrefined eezo; market value for the eezo, the three percent as a price for exclusivity, meaning that I would keep the promise of offering them the next two eezo discoveries I found at market value. I was agreed that the money would be paid to me within two more days and I would remain on the Citadel under escort by someone of the councillor's choosing until they returned with verification of the asteroid, to make sure that I wasn't pulling a fast one on them. That was fine by me. I still had people to recruit and premises to acquire so I was only too happy to stick around and play ball. I had no intention of running once I had the money. Well, not in the way she thought I might run.

Finally the contracts were agreed on and signed. I kept a copy on my omni-tool and Tevos had one on her terminal. With a final thank you to Tevos, I bid her farewell and Ely, Aleria and I left the office.

I had to caution Aleria once as we were leaving. "Keep it together," I said out of the corner of my mouth as she looked like she was about to explode with excitement. "Wait until we are at a hotel or something."

As we passed the receptionist's desk we saw the receptionist that we saw the first asari aide, Maryssa, doing what looked like a handover with her replacement. She stopped and glared daggers at me when she saw us. Ely opened her omni-tool and did something. After a moment the public display flashed up with a screenshot of a drell that seemed to be plowing an asari. Interestingly, they both seemed to have human-norm genitalia. _Is an azure just what they call a vagina?_ I wondered.

Maryssa's name was at the top of the screen, clearly from her terminal. The time stamp was about when we were walking in. I fought hard against the smile that threatened to give me away, and could see Aleria fighting one too. I had the feeling neither of us were that successful.

Finally we were escorted out of the Presidium and made our way to a random high quality hotel we had passed on our way in. We got up to the penthouse sweet when Ely and Aleria couldn't hold it in anymore. They burst out cheering and jumped all over the room in excitement.

"I can't believe you just did that! That was amazing!" Aleria exclaimed, hugging me tightly.

"Best boss ever!" Ely crowed, holding onto my elbow and shaking it with glee.

"Seriously! You just out-bargained a councillor!" Aleria jabbered on happily. She hopped up on her toes and pecked my cheek with a kiss. I looked at her and her cheeks flared a plum colour.

"I am glad you are happy ladies," I said, grinning openly with them. "You have no idea how satisfying that was." I let out a chuckle. "Or maybe you do, Ely, you sly little quarian! Nicely done on the porn, by the way." All three of us laughed out loud and it felt damn good.

"Alright. Ely, call Hectar and give him the good news. Then, I want you both to tell me how Tevos reacted as I walked around the room at the beginning. Tell me anything she did that looked out of the ordinary."

Another step accomplished.

…

Tevos watched the human lead his crew from her office. There were a lot of conflicting emotions and thought going on in her head right now. Frustration being the most prevalent of them, followed by confusion. Satisfaction for a well struck bargain wasn't even a contender for the top two.

She knew that she had done the right thing by the Republics in organising the purchase of that asteroid. The human was right after all. Damn him. She hadn't expected that; she had thought he was merely being dramatic and pushy which was one of the reasons that Jondum Bau had been there to evict them if it was a waste of her time. She didn't think he had been actually serious. It had let him dominate the conversation from start to finish. He had not seemed intimidated in the slightest. He had almost seemed as arrogant as that blasted batarian ambassador, if only far more civil and cultured in his approach. The man could have been a politician. He certainly would have been more entertaining than that blustering clown Udina.

Him finding out about Spectre Bau had been a nasty shock. She had expected to be able to have that as a trump card. She had no idea how he had known that. Only the Council, their bodyguards and the Spectres were supposed to know about that secret passageway. It was an escape route from her office in case of emergency. Someone must have talked. That was a security concern that needed to be addressed. Damn

What had confused her was that he had actually seemed completely genuine to keep the galaxy running as it was. That hadn't been an act, Tevos was sure. She had been a diplomat for more than two centuries. She knew when someone was being genuine. Brock Neilson had actually been doing what he thought was the best for the galaxy. And he had argued, bartered and bullied a councillor to get it done without fear. That, despite its apparent foolishness and the irritating fact that it had been _her_ that had been the recipient, deserved respect. The fact that it only benefitted himself and the asari was just a bonus. While a cynical part of her mind told her that he was going to get the credits anyway, the fact was that he could have gone straight to the open market. Doing it this way would basically, as he said, keep the status quo. The Republics had more than enough to pay for it. It would barely be noticed on its own. She might have to do some creative credit juggling to pay for the other asteroids, if there were any more. Otherwise someone might notice the vast amounts of money being moved around and ask awkward question. Most likely that damned sneaky Valern.

In all honesty, the eezo itself wasn't the defining point of the argument. It was his comments about image and reliance. Had she allowed the element zero to go to any other race, especially enough to stop reliance on the Republics, then certain members of the Council of Matriarchs would call for her head. Especially as there was less and less eezo being pulled from the current mines. More mines were planned but there was always transition differences which resulted in lower production values. It could take another five years before things returned to normal.

Then there were the comments he made about the statue of Athame. Could he possibly know? No, she rejected that idea. He couldn't. It was the most important secret in the galaxy, the hidden prothean beacon. There was no way that any human would be allowed access to it. None of the priestesses would ever speak of it to an outsider. The list of matriarchs that knew of its existence was fewer than a hundred and they were all the strongest proponents for asari power in the galaxy. He couldn't _possibly_ know about the beacon.

Still, she knew nothing about him. Spectre Bau's initial background checks had been clean and curiously blank. Something wasn't right. There were too many conflicting impressions of this human. She needed to know more.

She opened her omni-tool. "Spectre Bau, are you there?" she asked.

"Of course, Councillor Tevos," he replied immediately.

"Go back to Mr Neilson's background check. I think you missed something the first time. His profile that was passed on was nothing like the human I just met. There weren't enough details from that to draw a conclusion."

"Right away, Councillor."

She hung up and pressed her intercom. Saving the asari or not, a councillor's work never stopped.

…


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N I own nothing. Mass Effect is owned by Bioware**

 ***WARNING***

 **This chapter contains depictions of torture. If you feel you can't read it or that you may be affected by this, I advise you skip this chapter.**

 **Ok, so yes, this chapter is going to be heavier than the others. It may be the darkest part of the whole story. You may have noticed that I changed the rating of this story to M. That was because it was done as a precaution. I don't know if everyone here would think that this was bad enough to warrant such a rating but I thought it would be better to be safe than sorry. Let me know what you think in the reviews.**

 **Honestly, I tried to not make it too explicit. I had actually thought it was going to be more graphic than this, but I didn't want to turn away you readers who have been enjoying this. Still, I didn't think I could do the MC justice if I didn't have him describe his backstory at least a little.**

 **Other than that, there are still going to be longer delays between chapters as school is getting more hectic. I will continue updating but there may be delays of unknown lengths.**

 **ALSO, on a different note, I also published another story on here; a Mass Effect x Dragonball Super fic. It is not intended to be a main story at this stage, nor is it a replacement of this one. It was something I decided to do just for fun but I am not planning on putting too much effort into it if there is no reader interest. I do have ideas of where I would want to take it though if there is the interest. So take a look if you want, link through my profile. The intro explains what I mean about it.**

 **Comments:**

 **frankieu, Artyom-Dreizehn, zapper25, ArchAngel319, Nipplegunz, Madman123456, Skittertale, VODKA18, Bobobobobobon, Quietsound – thank you all**

 **mk0008 – we meet her here**

 **betapike, guest(1) – thanks. I gotta say, I do like the Magnificent Bastard characterisation. It helps when a plan comes together!**

 **Guest(2) – I have something planned that may make more sense when it comes up in a couple of chapters time. Hopefully it addresses your 'elephant'.**

 **DahakStaz – a little of both I should think.**

 **HoloObsession – a cop and a prison guard… gotta be friends, right?**

 **PyromaniacSquib – Maryssa may very well come back. I think it would be a nice fun conflict, don't you?**

 **Now, on to the story!**

 **...**

 **CHAPTER 11 - THERAPY**

The next day started with me having a positive outlook.

I spent the morning getting accustomed to my new shadow. It was an asari matriarch who only gave the name Malitae, pronounced Ma-lee-tay. She was a tall asari with light blue skin and a seemingly random collection of facial tattoos, clearly following the turian style with their face paints. However, she had also tattooed on some human style eyebrow markings.

She didn't say much at all. In fact, our entire conversation could be pretty much summarised as the following:

Me - "Hi. Brock Neilson, pleased to meet you."

Her - "I am only here to make certain that you stick the bounds of your agreement with Councillor Tevos. I don't care about you in any way."

After that she pretty much ignored everything I said to her and just walked around next to me. That was fine, so far as I was concerned. I had plenty of things I needed to do, even before the money from the asteroid came in.

The first thing I did was find a nice little café for breakfast. I offered my security escort some food and she just stared at me with a completely bored expression.

My food came, plain toast and a poached egg. I don't know exactly what animal the egg was from but the yoke wasn't the traditional gold that I was used to from chicken. It was some pale pink colour. I looked at it uncertainly, wondering briefly if it was actually edible. I looked over at another table and luckily there was a human on the opposite side of the café chowing down on the eggs without a second thought. I looked back down at my food and shrugged. When in Rome…

I took a mouthful and chewed thoughtfully, trying to analyse the taste. It tasted almost the same as an egg that I was familiar with, if not slightly sweeter than expected. I splashed a little salt and pepper on it and went back. Not too bad.

After a few mouthfuls, I looked at Malitae and just stared at her for a long moment.

"So, what did you do wrong?" I asked eventually.

That got a reaction. Her face went from neutral to stone instantly. "What do you mean?" she demanded.

I shrugged casually. "I got a minder because the councillor is concerned I might try to disappear with her money before I fulfil my end of our bargain. No matter that I don't want to push my luck any further with her at this stage. So what did you do wrong to be lumped into what is effectively babysitting a human. That seems a little beneath someone as important as an asari matriarch. A maiden desperately looking for approval, maybe. So that means that for you to be the one doing this, either the councillor has a lot of personal influence over you or you have done something that annoyed someone up the line. So what was it?"

She didn't say anything but she did give me a vicious and ugly scowl before opening up her omni-tool and ignoring me.

After breakfast I spent a great deal of time looking over the job openings I had been working on and posting them on the extranet. Then I called up the two quarians that I had interviewed at the same time as Ely and Hectar. While I had ultimately gone with Sel, both of those candidates had shown they were both suitable to work for me, far beyond the rest that I had talked with.

The first applicant had already found a proper job and thanked me for thinking of him but he was contracted for six months. The second one said she was also grateful but she would be returning to the fleet in the next week, having stumbled upon something she could use as her Pilgrim gift. So I needed to post a job for at least one more engineer. I got another job advert posted quickly.

At lunch I took my shadow to the café in the Bachjret Ward to wait for Torrin and Klara. I guess they had been waiting for me. Not even five minutes after Malitae and I had sat down, the two duct rats arrived at the table.

Almost immediately Torrin grew suspicious.

"Who is she?" he demanded, pointing at the asari with a talon. Malitae for her part was sneering disdainfully at the two urchins, as if offended by the sight of the dirty youngsters.

"Just ignore her," I said, being purposefully dismissive. "She's here for me, not for you. Take a seat."

"What do you mean that she is here for you?" Torrin asked suspiciously.

"Oh, I had a private conversation with the asari councillor yesterday. Apparently she didn't like everything I had to say so I have been assigned a watcher for a few days to make sure I behave as I agreed to do. Really, she is just here to make sure I don't leave the Citadel. So long as I don't do that, she doesn't really care. Though it is tough to stop her raw feelings of physical attraction she has for me."

Malitae glared at me, marring her otherwise generically attractive features. Then she got up and moved over to the next empty table and sat with her arms and legs crossed tightly. Torrin looked at me, his features I assume were sceptical.

"Hey, attraction can be tricky sometimes," I mock protested. He and Klara laughed.

"So, what did you mean the other day when you said that thing about us not living in the ducts?" Torrin asked, more comfortable now that the asari had moved to another table.

A salarian waiter arrived with drinks that I had ordered for the four of us. I directed the Thessian tea to Malitae's table. She looked up as it arrived and glared at the waiter. I couldn't hear their exchange but the fact that the waiter pointed to me as he spoke to her left the meaning of their conversation clear for interpretation. She looked suspiciously at the cup in front of her and sat back, not touching it. Oh well, I guess being nice doesn't work for everyone.

I turned back to Torrin. "Simply that," I said. "I want to open an orphanage here in the Wards for street kids like yourselves. I want you to be able to pick the location, somewhere near a common C-SEC patrol route and close to a duct entrance. I would supply carers, teachers for the younger kids and access to doctors so the kids can get a check-up. For the older kids I would start looking at getting employment advisors so that they can get decent jobs. If needed, I would also look at hiring more permanent security to make sure that you feel safer from the slavers."

Klara looked at me with no small amount of shock on her face. Torrin was back to peering at me suspiciously. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why would you help us?" he asked. "What do you get out of this?"

"Honestly?" I replied. "I actually like little Klara here. I don't want her and other kids like her to have to keep hiding from slavers and being suspicious of people all the time. That's no way to live through your childhood." I was very much aware that this may have been a little hypocritical as that was basically how I was living my own life, but they didn't need to know that. "Honestly, what kind of future do most of you and your friends have? Keep running messages for the local gangs and mercs until you are old enough to be initiated? Become a low level red sand smuggler where you can scratch out a tiny living for the rest of your days before you die young in a prison cell or become hunted for the rest of your lives? And that's _if_ you don't die falling into a ventilation fan or a protein vat now. Klara here deserves better than that. So do you."

I looked Torrin right in his eyes. "Don't you get tired of being the one looking out for everyone all the time? Of feeling responsible every time that one of them gets killed or kidnapped?"

I gestured to Klara. In the short time I had got to know her I already felt fond of the cute little girl. "I don't want that future for her. I want her to be able to work wherever she wants. If she wants to wander the stars or stay here on the Citadel, it doesn't matter. What matters is that she gets to choose."

I took a breath and looked down for a moment, feeling an ache in my heart. "I lost my son already. His future's gone. I can still help you though."

Torrin stayed quite for a while. Klara got up from her chair and gave me a hug. It felt good. "Thank you," she whispered.

"Yes," Torrin finally said quietly. "Sometimes I do get tired. But they needed me to do it."

I nodded. "And now, I can help." I braced myself a little for the next bit. "I would like you to come with me."

He sat up straighter and looked at me, his posture stiff. "What do you mean? You want a servant?"

I shook my head impatiently. "No. haven't you been listening? I don't want servants or slaves. What I am doing is offering to train you. I have an asari in my crew and it's possible that there will be more in the future. They can help you learn how to use your biotics. You know, have a proper teacher instead of you just guessing. The kids can stay at the orphanage where they will be looked after and you can come with me on my ship. You can learn how to use biotics, how to fight. You would work with me and train with me while I learn how to fight. Then I want you to help me save some slaves."

He stared at me, his mandibles flared in shock, matching Klara's open-mouth stunned look. "Are you serious?" he asked incredulously.

I nodded my head casually. "Very. There are lots of people to be saved out there. I want you to help me get do it."

He grunted. "What, you have some sort of hero complex?" he asked sarcastically.

I let my face harden, showing how serious I was actually being. He sat up and leaned away slightly, mandible twitching uncertainly.

"Let's just say that I was recruited into it," I said, my tone cool. "I saw a great deal and I need help."

I gave them a small sarcastic smile. "If nothing else and I turn out to just be crazy, at least you can get some training for free and your friends can get free food and warm bedding in a safe location every night with people to watch over them and keep them safe. Hell, I'll even pay you. What do you say?"

"Why me?" he asked, obviously stalling.

"Well, your biotics are a strong argument," I said dryly. "Besides, I still feel out of place in this whole thing. I thought you might be able to relate to that. Plus, everyone that you are looking out for will be taken care of now so you are going to have a lot of free time. And," I leaned forward conspiratorially, "it would give you a chance to take on some slavers. Give them a little payback."

His mandible clenched tightly to his face and his eyes grew wide. I couldn't tell if that meant excitement, concern or surprise.

He looked to Klara, who simply nodded her head enthusiastically. I guess after not talking for so long she had gotten used to not saying much.

"How long do I have to think about this?" he asked, still looking at Klara.

"Well, I won't get the money I need to do things until tomorrow, then I will be here for another week but I want to be well and truly started by then. There is a lot to do and not much time to do it. So, day after tomorrow at the latest. Speak to some of the other kids and let them know. I want you to look at a few places that I could do it. You know the Citadel better than I do at any rate. Make it somewhere near the ducts so that if kids still want to travel through them they can. Or if they just want to run away at a moment's notice. They have no obligation to stay. Except maybe the really young ones. They definitely need to be looked after."

He nodded slowly. I gave him my contact information so he could call me on his stolen omni-tool. Then it was a quick lunch with some casual chatting with them both, getting to know them. Klara started to open up and talk about her life in the ducts and which friends she liked the most and where to get the best food from unsuspecting venders. She was really growing on me and the way she was so animated while she talked was really fun.

…

The afternoon I had booked for the appointment I was looking the least forward to. My meeting with Aleria's psychologist aunt Selaen.

Aleria met up with me and basically ignored Malitae still following me arounds like a stray dog.

"Are you ok?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

I gave her a mirthless smile. "I haven't even started yet," I said.

She flushed prettily and looked away. "I know, I just… I hope that she can help you with everything." She looked up at me, her face in a slightly worried frown. "It will be just you and her in there," she said, pointing to the room the appointment was going to be in. it was kinda like a fish bowl get up. There was a wall about waist high with a glass panel that went the rest of the way to the roof. My blue shadow had insisted on being able to see me at all times. Aleria had argued on my behalf to let me have privacy but as long as I couldn't be heard I didn't care who could see me.

It was certainly an improvement on what I remembered in the games. I remember in ME3 there was that part in Huerta Memorial Hospital where anyone could literally walk around the wall to watch and listen to the therapist talking to asari commando with PTSD after killing Joker's family on the colony Tiptree. Hmmm. I should probably do something about that. Joker seemed pretty cool in the games. Still, if I can get things going according to the way that I want then it should never happen.

"You don't have to tell us anything that you say in there," Aleria continued into my thoughts, biting her lip. "But she will be able to help you best if you tell her as much as you can. If you can. I mean, I..."

"It's alright," I said as soothingly as I could, reaching a hand out to her shoulder to try comfort her. She surprised me by wrapping me up in a big hug. I hesitated only a moment before returning it. I looked over her head to see her aunt watching us patiently through the window. I let out a sigh. Time to do this.

I untangled myself from Aleria and walked into the room, closing the door behind me. I saw her still worried face through the glass, gave her what was an attempt at a reassuring smile and turned to face my newest opponent.

Ok, maybe it was a little harsh to describe a woman who was trying to help me get over some of my problems as an opponent, but I _really_ felt nervous about this. I just knew that I was going to be reliving nine months of hell in this conversation. Maybe it would work, maybe not but at least I can say that I tried. And other comforting half-truths I tell myself…

"Hello, Brock, isn't it?" Dr Selaen, Aleria's aunt asked. Her voice was already soothing. Like warm honey being poured in my ear. It was strangely comforting and enticing but not in a sexual way. More like a warm blanket on a cold night sort of way. It helped my nerves to lessen a little. I nodded a reply to her.

"A pleasure to meet you Brock," she said reaching out a hand. I shook it. "I am Dr Selaen N'Tavis, Aleria's aunt. Please just call me Selaen."

I nodded again. "Pleased to meet you too, Selaen," I said.

She smiled. "Please take a seat." She gestured to a couple of long half lie-back chairs where I could sit and lean back. It was almost like a poolside bed, just with more cushions. I took a seat and leaned back. It was actually really comfortable. Selaen took her seat opposite from me but refrained from leaning back.

"Now, Aleria has told me a little bit," Selaen admitted. "She told me those things in confidence so that I would be prepared and to help me know what sort of talk we would need to have."

I felt a little bit of disgruntled annoyance flicker through me before I squashed it. I didn't like the idea of people talking about it behind my back but I knew that Aleria's intentions were pure. She was just doing what she thought was right to help prepare me for this.

"But to do this properly, I think that you should really tell the whole story from the beginning," the therapist continued calmly. "As you let it out of you, it will be like your soul is releasing the poison that it has taken in by the treatment you have suffered. The most likely feeling that you will have at the end is a feeling of emptiness, or hollowness inside of you. I want to emphasise that there is nothing wrong with that. In fact, try to imagine that you managed to remove all of the damage to your soul and from that moment on you are able to replace them with the positive things that you have been deprived of since the start of your ordeal. It gives you the chance to heal, by purging out the sickness to your soul. You already experienced a little of this when you opened up to Aleria. Now, I want you to do it here with me."

Well, her voice was calming, her words were logical in some strange sort of way, and to be completely honest, doing this was why I had agreed to the appointment in the first place. Even so, I hesitated. To let it out, I would have to relive it all over again. Doing that… was not on my list of preferred activities.

Selaen could obviously sense why I hesitated. Probably came from decades of doing this with slave victims. "This is a safe space, Brock," she said encouragingly. I tried not to laugh. Back in my time, safe spaces had been a bit of a joke to me. But then, they weren't really a thing in Australia, just something on the news that made me shake my head. There was no such thing as a safe place for me, even back then.

I let out a shaky breath. Here goes nothing.

"Well, I guess that first I should probably give you some background," I began. "I was born on Earth in a city of the south east coast of the continent of Australia. I moved to the west side when I was twelve. At seventeen I met a girl called Felicity. Two years later we got married. At around the same time I took a job as a prison guard for the local civilian prisons.

"I had worked there for about three years when my wife gave birth to our son, Jason." I stopped and took a deep breath, fighting the tightening of my throat at the thought of where this conversation was going to go. "Jason became the brightest thing in my life. My relationship with Felicity had not been good for more than a year before Jason's birth. After he was born, she… got sick. Physically and mentally. It was not good for a long time. I had to take about six months off work because she wasn't able to take care of him. Post-natal depression. It hit her hard. Physically she got better after six months but mentally, emotionally… she never got better. Never returned to the way she was before. Whatever it was, she never seemed to connect to Jason like I did."

 _Jason was crying as I came through the door, sitting strapped in his highchair. Felicity was nowhere to be seen. I quickly unbuckled him and lifted him out. He had soiled himself. The dampness was cold, meaning it had been there for a while. He wasn't messy, like he had eaten. Where the hell was Felicity?_

I shook off the memory. "Anyway, so three years goes by and she never got better. Our relationship never recovered. We stopped talking except for fights about stupid things. I slept on a mattress on the floor in Jason's bedroom every night that I wasn't working the nightshift. Work was the same it had been for the last few years. High and low level criminals. Some getting in my face to threaten me, others trying to proposition me sexually. More propositions than threats, actually. It was a comfortable routine. I had managed to get some shifts in a partial promotion as a temporary unit manager, which meant a little more money. We had a couple bad incidents around that time, with some gangs going to war with each other inside the prison. It led to fights and a couple of prisoners being beaten to death. We were ordered to be harsher with the prisoners to prevent them from getting time to organise gang fights." I sneered to myself. "It was a stupid idea. All it did was make it worse for relations between staff and the prisoners. Respect was lost. Mutual respect is what a prison in Australia was supposed to run on. Don't make life inside harder than it needed to be and they didn't make life harder for us either. And they wouldn't seek retribution outside when they got released.

"Anyway, things came to a head and I was involved in a major riot. I managed to stop some high level crims from getting out during the fighting. They were furious and tried to get past and I stopped them." I looked at her serene, neutral face. "I was a bit larger then, more muscular than I am now." She just nodded at me to continue. I grunted in wry amusement to myself. "I couldn't manage that now, though. Not without a lot of time at the gym.

"So a bunch of us got awards for what we did. The main thing I remember was when I got home and it had been in the news, Felicity just glared at me and said: 'I suppose you think you're some big hero now.' I didn't say anything. I just took Jason to bed and lay down next to him. I had been so scared during that riot but I had just done what needed to be done in the moment. When I got home, it all just hit me that I had come so close to losing it all. Jason could have grown up without a dad; left alone with a mother that didn't care for him. He was too young for that. I just wanted to stay close to the boy. I loved the kid so much." I feel my eyes sting at the memory of those times, my heart twisting in my chest. It was one of the most precious memories I have. I coughed in an attempt to pretend that I was clearing my throat. Really, I was just trying to fight against the tightening that seemed to be trying to stop me speaking.

"Then, a couple weeks after things had calmed down, I was lying in bed asleep. Next thing I know there is a lot of banging, Jason was crying and someone grabbed my arms and held me down. Someone else threw a bag over my head. Then I guess someone hit me hard enough to knock me unconscious because the next thing I remember was waking up with a headache and arms over my head and chained to the ceiling of some room. It was all stone walls and concrete floors. I had to stay standing or the cuffs would cut too much into my wrists. I don't know how long I was there but someone finally came in. It was some of the gang members that I recognised from the prisons. None of the leaders, just grunts. They didn't say anything; they just walked over and started to use me as a punching bag.

"They went at me for a while. When they were done, everything hurt. I was pretty sure that some of my ribs and my nose were broken. Maybe an eye socket too because I couldn't really see out of my right eye. My groin had been kicked a couple of times and I had thrown up on myself. When they left they shut the lights out and slammed the door shut. There were no lights, no windows. It was pitch black; the sort of black that your eyes don't adjust to. Then came the music."

I was feeling some agitation as I relived the memories of those early days. At the time, it had seemed bad. It hadn't taken long before I was wishing for the relative ease of those early beating.

"Music?" Selaen asked, clearly not understanding.

I nodded. "They had some speakers in the room. They blasted music so loud that the very air seemed to pulsate. In the small room, the soundwaves only amplified off the stone walls and I could almost feel the sound pushing against my skin. Think of the worst nightclub and have them turn the volume up so loud that when you speak, you can't even hear yourself. It gave me constant headaches and stopped me from being able to get any sleep.

"I don't know how long it went. Time was hard to judge in there. It might have been a few days, maybe a couple of weeks. I might have only been a single day as far as I could tell. The only thing that changed was that sometimes the door would open and someone would come in and give me water or food. More than half the time they would punch me in the stomach when they had finished giving it to me and I would end up vomiting it back up."

Her face changed a little from its neutral mask to a slightly crinkled look of concern. I spared a look out through the window. Aleria was still watching me with a worried face. Malitae was still scowling at me suspiciously.

"It's alright, you're ok. Please, continue," Selaen said, drawing my attention back to her.

I swallowed. This is when the bad stuff happened.

"Eventually they finally shut off the music. By this point I was basically delirious from the lack of food, water and sleep. The pain from that first beating had basically gone but because I was tired all the time, I wasn't so good at standing up properly and the cuffs were cutting into my wrists badly. They started bleeding at one point. Even though the music had been turned off, it had been so loud for so long that it left a ringing in my ears all the time. They would use it later to wake me up every time that someone was coming in to beat me.

"Anyway, they came in and undid the chain from the ceiling. I didn't have the energy to keep standing and collapsed straight onto the floor. I think I chipped a tooth there, though they might have just kicked me when I was the ground. I don't really remember much for a while. I think they gave me water and food and let me eat and drink normally to let me get my strength back. The next thing I remember is waking up at some point and seeing that they had attached my cuffs to a short chain that was bolted to the floor." I hesitated for a moment, not sure how I wanted to explain the next parts of process. I was no longer sitting back in my chair. I was sitting up and my hands were tapping against my thighs as the agitation started to build inside of me.

"From then on, every time they came in, I got beaten or stabbed or worse, even when they fed me. They would bring knives in and would slash me on the arms or legs just for the fun of it. That was the easy part. One of them had a steel pole that he would hit my wrists and feet with. I am pretty sure he broke more than a few bones. Other times they would bring in the hammers and smash my hands and fingers. My fingers got mangled repeated.

"They eventually figured that just hurting me wasn't enough. They weren't satisfied with making me vomit by punching or kicking me in the stomach after eating. They started to tamper with my food. They put things into my drink like ipecac."

"Ipecac?" Selaen interrupted. "I'm sorry, I don't know what that means."

"It's a drink that is made from some form of tree root that induces chronic vomiting," I explained.

Her face took on an alarmed expression for a small moment before she schooled back to her calm business face. "I see. Please continue."

"So sometimes they would use ipecac, other times they would use hallucinogenics. I imagine that they took great please in hearing me scream at things that weren't there," I growled the last statement. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to settle my nerves. "After a while I stopped eating, so they force fed me."

" _He won't eat Gaz," the bald one said, looking at the untouched plate on the ground. The water bottle had been tipped over and had turned the dried up vomit into a sodden paste._

" _Well bloody make him," Gaz spat back. "We can't have him wasting away yet. He's lost enough weight as is."_

" _Last time I did that he nearly bit my finger off!" Baldy protested._

 _Gaz reached back and grabbed something. Moments later, pain exploded in my face as the business end of a hammer smashed my teeth into shards._

" _He won't bite you any more, now, will he?" Gaz said sarcastically._

Selaen had her hand over her mouth as I shook off the memory. My hands clenched themselves as I fought off the growing rage. The asari quickly made her face return to its normal, calm and friendly expression.

"Things were like that for the entire time. One of the worst ones was when they had an argument about something in my cell and I chuckled. One of them didn't like that so he got a Hoffman Knife and cut my left ear off. He thought it was ironic because the Hoffman Knife is what we used in prisons to cut people down who had hung themselves."

" _Now you shouldn't have to worry about what you can hear," the man laughed viciously, carrying my ear out of the room and slamming the door behind him._

"The second worst physical thing was the branding," I continued, my voice now strained as I pushed back against the memory. I don't remember having stood up but now I was pacing the room. My nerves were on edge and I couldn't stay still. I had my hands clenching and unclenching as I tried to work off the jitters.

 _The unnamed man hit the ignited and the welding flame burst to life in a bright orange glow. He twisted a dial and the flame turned blue. He turned it aside and put it in the pit._

" _Now, there may come a time," the man said, his tone casually conversational, "when people see you and wonder how this came to be. And our boss wants us to use you to send a message. So, regardless of whether you die here and we dump your body somewhere or if we let you loose, however unlikely that may be, whenever anyone sees you we want there to be no doubt that we were the ones to do it."_

 _He picked up and the now cherry-red branding iron, personalised with their gang insignia. I tried to pull away but both the rusty restraints and the two other men kept me from getting away._

" _No, no," I pleaded, incapable of saying anything else. "No, n-NOOO!" The brand held against the skin on my back ribs. The pain was unbelievable and the smell of burning flesh made me nauseous. After what felt like an eternity the brand was taken away and I just collapsed back to the concrete floor. Laughter, followed by a slamming door finally announced the men leaving the room._

"Goddess," Selaen gasped. "And you say that this is only the second worst thing they did to you?"

"Physically," I corrected, almost automatically. "What they did later was worse." I pulled up shirt showing the brand mark on my stomach. "That's the brand. I had the gang symbol removed but I kept the burn mark. There are several more on my back." I lowered the shirt and this time pulled down on my collar and showed her the jagged circular scar on my shoulder. "That was the worst thing they did to me physically."

 _Gaz and Baldy were back, this time accompanied by random thug number four, six and seven. I didn't know any of them, at least not by name. If they had done time, which was more than likely, then they had managed to avoid me wherever I had been. They were all standing around grinning like crazy fools. That was never a good sign. That usually meant that the worst beatings or slashings were on the way. At least they hadn't brought the welder and the brand._

" _You know," Gaz began in that sadistically conversational tone, "you've been here for a while now. We've got you with the branding iron a bunch of times now and we were getting a little bored so we decided to try something a little new."_

 _He looked over my shoulder at the thug behind me. All I heard was a grunt of effort and suddenly pain forced me to bellow like I hadn't done since I was place here. My arm felt as if it was being torn off. I looked and saw the back end of a hook hanging out the front of my shoulder, the tip visible out the back in the edge of my peripheral vision._

 _Gaz said something but I didn't hear him. There was a roaring in my ears and I hadn't felt such intense pain ever before. Not even the branding had hurt like this._

 _Eventually I stopped screaming and reverted to pained grunts and breathing, trying to fight against the pain. It was all the vain as the thug yanked on it, making me yell again. I quietened down again and they yanked it. This time my scream was less forceful as my nerves seemed to be adjusting enough to let me be aware of the room again._

" _Good," Gaz said, squatting in front of me. "I see that you are already fighting it. That's good." He leaned in right close. "That means that we can fight back too."_

 _The next part of my life, what felt like days, was full of inescapable agony as they unclipped the chain and dragged me around the room by the hook. Every time it moved I thought it was going to tear my arm off or at least snap my bones or pull out a muscle. The hole became wider the more it was pulled in different directions._

 _Eventually they got bored when I was too weak to even scream any more. They yanked out the hook and reattached the chain to my cuffs._

"Don't want him to get an infection from that," Baldy said somewhere in the background. I was having trouble focussing.

" _True, get the vinegar."_

 _My brain was too damaged to realise what that meant in that moment. The next thing I knew was burning that seemed to travel through my whole body as they poured liquid all over me. It finally all became too much because I don't remember them leaving. My guess is that I passed out._

Selaen was trying valiantly to keep her professional calm demeanour but her face had paled considerably.

"That is barbaric," she said, her voice oddly hoarse. "Only the worst batarian slavers would do something like that."

I shook my head. "The mongrels didn't even stop me getting infection. After a while I noticed that everything was looking funny and I felt hot. I had thought that they had drugged me again but I went to sleep and woke up with an IV drip in my arm. They had apparently watched vids to learn how to place it. My arm had more than a few jabs for them to get it right. I still have no idea where they got the antibiotics from though. Probably did a raid from a hospital for their own drugs."

This therapy session was making me feel really unsettled now. The memories were vivid and it almost felt as if I was going through the experiences all over again. I hated it immensely. I just wanted to get out.

"Brock, please look at me," Selaen said soothingly. I look at her. Her face is paler than normal but she schooled it into a calm, patient expression. Her decades of dealing with slaves must have really helped her to be able to deal with the worst things in the galaxy.

"I want you to close your eyes and focus on my voice," she continued. I reluctantly obeyed. "That's right. Focus on my voice. You are safe here. There is nothing here that will hurt you. You have a friend right outside who is waiting for you, who is willing to comfort you if you need it. Now take a deep breath, nice and slow." I inhaled slowly and let it out. Whatever magic this was, it was helping to take away my agitation; helping me to calm down.

"Good, now open your eyes."

I opened my eyes and looked at her.

"I know that you are hurting by having to relive your trauma," she said, her tone measured and professional. "I know that it will be for the best if we continue and try to get everything out so that you don't leave without feeling some level of closure. Do you think you can do that?"

I hesitate for a long moment, then slowly nod.

"Good. Well, take a moment, then when you are ready, please continue."

I let out a sigh, trying to settle my nerves for the part that I am about to get into. The part that always gives me the worst nightmares.

 _The lights in the hallway flickered on, showing as a slit of white under the door. No music was being played. They hadn't played music to wake me up for a long time now. I don't know why they stopped. Maybe they were bored of it. Maybe they had almost gotten caught. The sounds of multiple footsteps were approaching. Something was different; one of the sets of footsteps was faster than the rest. Like they were shorter._

 _The door opened up and the brightness that came into the room blinded me. Before my eyes could adjust to the sudden light, I heard a voice that froze my blood instantly._

" _Daddy?"_

Selaen's face broke her perfectly calm expression and she looked horrified for only an instant before her practiced mask came back. "They brought your child to see you?" she asked. Her voice almost sounded… hopeful.

I shook my head violently, trying to shake the images away from what happened next. I didn't want to see it. I just wanted this to be over with, as quickly as possible.

"No," I said, my voice hoarse as I fought back tears. "Not to see me. For me to see him."

A long pause came as I fought against the mental images that had been prevalent through my earlier explanations. She could make me tell her, but I refused to see it again.

"They brought him into the room. Then they tortured him while I watched," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I was fighting to get the words out as my head tried to betray me and make me live those scenes again, anger and sickness clashing inside my stomach violently. "Then, when they were done, the killed him in front of me and left his body in the cell."

A tear leaked out and ran a warm trail down my face. "I never felt so helpless as I did hearing my son screaming for me, while I was bolted to the floor and unable to help him. They damn near cut him in half when they killed him. And I felt like the world's biggest failure, almost like I let it happen because I couldn't stop it."

A long pause came as I furiously wiped my eyes, trying to prevent any more tears from coming out. I heard a sniffle come from Selaen. I didn't look up at her. I couldn't. Just talking about this had drained me more than I would have ever expected. I just sat hunched over on my chair.

"What happened then?" Selaen's voice came out slightly strained.

I let out a sigh. "I gave up," I said honestly. "I just lay there on the floor and wanted to die. They came into the room and I didn't move. They kicked me and hit me to get a response and I didn't even flinch. I couldn't look at Jason's body. I just waited for death. I _hoped_ to die. They tried to make me eat and drink and they almost choked me because I wouldn't swallow. I was ready to die and join Jason.

"Then, I heard one of them making a joke about it. About Jason's death. From then on I knew that I wanted to get out so that I could punish them. I felt a rage that I hadn't felt in years, only far more intense. So I started to eat and drink again, even when they went back to drugging my food. And then came a moment that I hadn't expected at all

"They brought my wife in."

"Your wife?" Selaen asked, trepidation filling her voice. "They killed her too?"

I shook my head. "No, they didn't. She admitted to being in on it. On having me captured, on my torture. She had known about it."

"Why?" Selaen asked, her tone full of morbid curiosity.

I shrugged. "I don't know," I admitted. "I knew that we had stopped loving each other a long time before and I knew that she had never fully recovered after Jason was born. I've heard stories about mothers reaching a breaking point and killing their own children but I never found out all of the reasons why. She admitted that she had gotten into taking drugs before the end and that the gang that had captured me were her suppliers but that was it.

"So anyway, she starts coming into the cell more regularly and mocking me, spitting on me. Then she starts to have sex with the gang members in front of me. While I was chained to the floor in a room with our dead son rotting a few feet away she would let the gang members have their way with her over and over again. A lot of the time there was more than one at a time. No explanation, just doing it.

"It finally came to a head one day, after she had sex with Baldy, she walked over to me, spat in my face as I stood there as best as I could and then she said, and I don't think I will ever forget the words: 'I can see why Jason turned out so pathetic.'

"I snapped at that. It set me off into a full blown rage. I broke out of my cuffs and head-butted her, then I kicked Baldy in the balls and stole his knife. Then I went through the building and disabled every single person in there."

"Wait," Selaen interrupted me. "How did you manage to escape?"

I finally looked her in the eye. "How much do you know about human physiology?" I asked.

She shrugged herself. "Admittedly not a great deal," she replied.

I gave a twisted bittersweet smile. "Did you know that human stomach acid is corrosive enough to dissolve steel?"

She looked alarmed. "You cut your stomach open somehow?"

I shook my head. "No nothing like that," I said, actually feeling that even though this was a weird conversation to have, after the previous parts of my session, it was far more normal. "You see, when a human vomits, part of that vomit actually contains stomach acid. Now, it's only a very small amount. I read somewhere that out of the average human regurgitation only 0.5% was actually stomach acid. That percentage went up if there was less food or liquids in the stomach to absorb or dilute it, but not drastically. Still, when my food was being tampered with and I was being fed things that would _make_ me vomit…" I let the sentence hang.

"Don't get me wrong, it wasn't something that happened from Jason. I actually got the idea for it when I was still in the early days and they had my hands cuffed to the roof, when they would punch me in the stomach after feeding me. When they changed it so that my hands were bolted to the floor, it meant that I was finally able to do it. So every time I threw up, I just aimed it at my hands and made sure the cuffs got a good coating.

"Now, 0.5% doesn't do much on its own. But when that happens nearly every day for months, and sometimes multiple times a day, it adds up. The metal became corroded and started to rust as the acid did its job. I specifically tried to get it on the _inside_ metal of the hand cuffs, which is harder than you'd think, to try and wear it away where it would be less likely to be spotted. Combine that with the fact that after nine months of forced starvation and a lack of exercise and I had become a lot skinnier, including my wrists. Much of my muscle had worn away too. The only reason I was able to take them all out was surprise and the adrenaline that was flooding through me which kept me going.

"I had been afraid that they would see it and change the handcuffs but I guess they were overconfident and never looked. The only time they touched my restraints was when they undid the chain for the butcher's hook thing and put it back on. My hands were cuffed the entire time and they didn't notice it. It also meant they didn't notice when the handcuffs became a lot looser through weight-loss and the very slow work of the stomach acid.

"So after Felicity said that about Jason, I just snapped. I lost all control of the rage that had been building for a while. I don't know how long but I think it was have been weeks from when I first heard them joke about Jason's death. I pulled hard on the cuffs and, even with them being looser, I think I broke a bone in each hand and the rusty insides basically scraped away the skin of my hands." I raised my wrists to show her the jagged scars that bore proof to my words. "I almost degloved myself.

"When it was all over, they were dead. All of them. I had killed them and if they hadn't died immediately, I took my time. I carved pieces of their flesh like they had done to me. I cut off ears, cut out eyes, stabbed tongues. I saved Felicity for last." My voice caught and I felt the shame again. It was the same shame that I had felt sitting in the dungeon when I had first been visited by Manuel.

"When it was over, I felt sick with myself. I was disgusted."

"I can understand how doing that to them may have been distressing…" the therapist started.

"No," I cut her off, scenes of the bloodshed floating before my eyes. "I wasn't disgusted because of what I had done. I was disgusted with myself because I _loved doing it to them_! It filled me with joy to make their pain last, to make them feel a small part of what they put me through. I was the happiest I had been in nine months when I was able to cut them to pieces."

I let out a huge sigh and buried my face in my hands. "When it was over I was disgusted with myself for having enjoyed it so much. And I was disgusted because I wanted to do it again."

I looked up at her, my expression turned pleading. "I don't think I am a bad guy. I always tried to do the right thing by everyone. Even the prisoners. I never made life more difficult for them than it needed to be. But good guys don't _enjoy_ mutilating people the way that I did. It doesn't fill them with happiness the way that I was filled."

I looked back down, hanging my head as I felt the shame flood through me. "I don't think I was wrong to kill them. I don't regret that at all. But what I did and how much I enjoyed doing it… I was afraid that there was no forgiveness for that."

That was it. I had finally run out of words to say. I was exhausted. I was drained physically and emotionally from reliving the darkest moments of my life, seeing flashes of those tortures that were forced upon me. It sunk deep into my bones. I just wanted to sleep.

"I see," Selaen said after a long moment. "I must say that I am amazed, Brock. Your story is a singularly horrible one. I have been a counsellor for nearly two hundred years to many different people who had suffered tragedy. There are very few that could say that they had suffered as you did. There have been slaves that have been forced to receive horrible abuse and who were forced to watch family die but not all that many of them. It tends to cut into the slaver's profits. But every time that someone has suffered as you, I must say that none of them would be able to have started a company and function on a day to day level as you have. I take it you still have nightmares, from what Aleria has told me?"

I just nod, not even bothering to look up.

"That is normal. I would expect you to have them for a while. It is entirely likely that they may continue for years, though they will become less frequent. That has already started from when you first talked to Aleria. As for the joy and the guilt that you felt: the joy, I believe, is easily explainable. These people had punished you and your child. It was not something as quick as death, it was protracted torture. You had your power taken from you. As you did that back to them, you felt your power returning. You were getting retribution for your treatment and that of your son. Your inner mind was acknowledging that you had conquered your situation and felt justified in your response. The guilt, again I believe, is from your conscience. You know that people ought not to do that sort of torture to others. That guilt is what would stop you from just going out and doing that to every person who offends you. That guilt is what means you are completely normal and suitable for functioning in civilised society. I would be far more concerned if all you had felt was the joy of torturing. But your conscience recognised that as an inhumane act and is what prevents you from repeating it. Appreciate that guilt but don't let it destroy you."

I nod, feeling a spark of something akin to relief. As worn out as this had made me, I felt as she had told me I would feel at the start; empty. A lot of the darkness I had been carrying felt like it had been purged. Purged rather forcefully but purged nonetheless. Now, maybe I could fill that darkness with light.

Then I remembered where I was and what I was going to be doing in the next few years. Ok, maybe mostly filled with light.

We finished up after that, seeing as there was nothing really left to say. Selaen offered her services to me any time that I felt the need to talk about things some more and I thanked her for the offer.

When I walked out of the office I was quickly embraced by a concerned Aleria.

"Are you ok?" she asked. "Things didn't look so good there for a while."

I shook my head slightly, feeling emotionally drained. "That was heavier than I wanted it to be." I extracted myself from her grip. "I am going to go back to the hotel. I think that is enough for the day. You go have fun. Enjoy your shore leave. I will call you when I am ready."

She looked conflicted, like she wanted to ignore me. I reached up and cupped her cheek. She leant into it slightly. "It's alright," I said. "I just need some time after that."

Her lips compressed into a thin line but she nodded and gave me another hug.

I looked over her head at Malitae. For the first time she wasn't glaring at me with any hostility. She was staring at me as if I was an unknown alien. At this rate I am not sure which one was better. I had no idea what she was going to tell Tevos after today.

"I am staying at the Hotel Allure near the Presidium in Bachjret Ward. I don't care what you do, I am going back there and going to rest. Do whatever makes you feel like you are obeying Tevos's orders. I will see you tomorrow."

With that, I left the group of asari and headed back to the nearest aircar stand. I just needed some rest.

…

 **A/N Please Follow/Favourite/Review as you please.**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N I own stuff, just not this stuff**

 **Thanks for your patience with this. School has been kicking my butt and I am having difficulty finding time to write this. Do not fret, I still plan on doing this story but if there are delays, don't worry. I haven't stopped it. If that day ever comes then I will let you know through an announcement. The delay for this one was because I wasn't happy with the first effort and I decided to rewrite it. Quality comes first. Mostly.**

 **So last chapter had some admittedly mixed opinions. Mostly good, a few concerned. It wasn't an easy chapter to write and for those who felt like it might have been a bit much, I understand. Again, I had originally planned it to be more graphic but decided to cut it back.**

 **However, now that the main introduction story is coming to a close, the timeline will start moving a little faster as the events happen. A few good plans, some good action and more interesting political scenes on the horizon.**

 **Comments:**

 **zapper25, mk0008, DahakStaz, deadtrooper, Artyom-Dreizehn, LordHerod – thank you all.**

 **SneakyDevil – I appreciate your feedback. I am, however, quite familiar with injuries. On the topic of shock, injuries that happen over a long period of time tend to reduce the likelihood of shock occurring. Besides not everyone goes into shock. Though common, it is not a guarantee. As for the rest, well, no writer can please everyone. Thank you for making time reading the first chapter at least.**

 **Madman123456 – well, considering the events of the first chapter there wasn't much time for the wife to get evaluated. Still, I think the level of psych treatment and such that she needed is way beyond what I would be qualified to write about here.**

 **MKauis – don't worry, only the MC has a story that twisted. The others have a few thigns but not to that level. As I said in the warning last chapter, that was likely to be the heaviest chapter in the story.**

 **OpenSourceArtist – thanks for coming along for the ride! As for the issue regarding spelling and grammar, I don't actually have anyone else reviewing this before I post it, it's all me. No beta in sight. I do a couple of reviews before I post but I do occasionally miss things. I tend to see them after I post it, which is annoying but I do my best, in the limited time I have.**

 **Anyway, on with the story!**

…

 **CHAPTER 12 – EXPECTED AND UNEXPECTED**

I sat looking at my terminal screen, eyes getting blurry from having been there for the last few hours. I leaned back in my chair and rubbed my eyes. My face felt greasy and my mind was having trouble focussing. I decided to review my week to take my mind off the monitor.

After having seen Aleria's aunty Salaen where I felt like my soul had been attacked with steel wool as I relived the worst things I went through, I had been able to sleep soundly nearly every night since. I had woken up feeling a little like I had lost most of the emotional weight that I hadn't really realised was there but was only left feeling empty. But Salaen had told me to expect that. Now I had to try and fill the emptiness with things that make me happy or uplift me. Not an easy task, considering the reason I am here.

So I threw myself back into my work as a way of focussing on something. The money from the asteroid sale had come through and, after I sent Tevos the coordinates for the asteroid. The very first thing I did was to call a team meeting where I announced that each of the three members still remaining on my crew would receive a three million credit bonus each. Hectar started wheezing as if her was about to pass out while Ely and Aleria both jumped up and down excitedly and threw themselves on me in a massive hug. Aleria even gave me a big kiss on the cheek before sitting back in her chair with a blush on her purple visage. I don't think they had expected it but as far as I was concerned I was happy to give it to them for their loyalty over the Sel issue.

After that I wasted no time getting my plans for expansion up and running. I had posted job openings for another mechanic/engineer, a ships doctor, a master at arms and a personal combat trainer. Well, I didn't say combat but that was what I was looking for. I was also finishing up the applications for a weapons engineer for big ships, an armour technician, a physicist and a quartermaster/logistics manager. I had even begun hiring for workers for the orphanage. I had contacted the asari receptionist, Malaea, that I had used when I was hiring my quarian engineers and had officially hired her to be my full-time secretary. Really she was just going to be running any calls or organising appointments that I got and was really going to be the contact person for anyone wishing to make an appointment or contact anyone in the organisation. Really there wasn't a whole for her to do at the beginning but she was happy to have the regular pay check and I was pretty lenient on her working conditions. I basically let her do whatever she wanted as long as she did the things I needed her to do and I paid her good money to do it, so long as she didn't work for anyone else while she was employed by me. I did give her a few tasks, such as writing up a few templates for acknowledgement letters and kind rejection letters and so forth. I had no idea what sort of things people would ask me yet but I wanted to be prepared and have at least a modicum of professionalism for people that wanted to contact us.

With that in mind I had already put forward a logo to the CBD (Citadel Business Directorate) for Shieldstar Corp, which was accepted and trademarked. I was a cobalt blue background with a white outline of an old knight's shield that had a gold star in the centre. Again, not very original, but I only took about ten minutes to think it up before I submitted it. It wasn't too big a deal to change it later but at least it was memorable and went with the name of the company. That black and gold logo of Cerberus never really made sense to me, but then I admit to not really putting much thought behind my business designs. The goals were more important.

I had to admit I was feeling a little more paranoid. After the therapy session, I noticed that Malitae had been more observant; looking at me from the corner of her eye and turning away when I looked at her, getting close as I opened my omni-tool. It made me annoyed enough to set up a special meeting with Hectar to talk cyber security.

I had begun to think about security for money. I had a bank account linked through my omni-tool that Manuel had set up when he brought me here. I hadn't given much thought on how my money was being transferred around. So I made a detour to Citadel Main Bank, where my account was held, to talk money. Three hours later and I had the most secure banking system that the bank had to offer for its richest and most distinguished clients. The money had been distributed to a few different accounts that I could access straight from my omni-tool and they had even upgraded the security of my little 'tool… for the charitable price of a hundred thousand credits. They assured me at that point that there was no one in the galaxy that would be able to hack into it. If anyone did manage to hack it then they would refund my money in full. I made sure to keep the receipts.

After that I met Hectar on the ship and told him to have a crack at hacking into my omni-tool. As it turned out, it took him a whole ten minutes. Apparently, the security program had an almost unnoticeable 'backdoor' that would allow entry to the device. It was lucky that I had not just accepted the claims of security offered by the salarian bank operator.

I called C-SEC and had a couple of detectives dealing with electronic fraud meet me on the ship. I explained the situation with the bank teller and watched as their faces grew pale at the information. We marched down to the bank immediately. The salarian banker was still there dealing with a new customer. The moment he saw me he stood up and started to move towards the exit. He almost made it before the asari officer with me shot him with a stun weapon, reducing him to a twitching lump of green-grey alien skin on the floor.

The commotion had drawn the attention of the volus banking executive. He waddled down in a black atmospheric suit with gold lining and demanded to know what was going on. After the officers explained the situation with the expensive program and the back door the volus rose up to his full, unimpressive height and stared down at the salarian who was still lying on the ground but had started coming around to the situation.

"Consider yourself *hiss* unemployed as of *hiss* immediately," he growled at the salarian, who flinched and tried to lean away from the angry executive, sounding much more vicious than I would have ever given a volus the credit of being able to sound. "I will not have *hiss* anyone bring this fine *hiss* institution into disrepute. Officers *hiss* take him away and throw the *hiss* book at him. Mr Neilson, *hiss* on behalf of the Citadel Main Bank *hiss* I sincerely apologise and hope *hiss* that this unpleasant situation can be resolved at a local level." His meaning was clear: he didn't want to be sued.

In the end, I received all my accounts without any fees, which saved a lot of money, a full refund on the program that I had bought, and a personal favour from the banking executive whose name was Melat Fin, that I could call in at any time, no questions asked. That might end up being more important than anything else he could have offered me.

As it was, I kept the program and sent it straight to Hectar and told him to make it foolproof. Within a day the little tech genius presented me with a program that he assured me made my omni-tool completely hack-proof. I thanked him and told him that he could keep it and sell the program himself, should he so choose.

I also decided I wanted to test out the quality of that hacking program that Manuel had given me. He took a long time analysing it before coming back and saying that he had never seen a hacking program that was quite as good as this. "In fact," he said, "if it wasn't for what I did with that security program on your omni-tool, this hacking program might possibly have been able to crack into any known omni-tool that I know of." He asked where I got it from.

To avoid any questions about creators of the universe and their messengers, I merely smiled and said "It was a gift. The person who made it is gone." He accepted this. Then we tested the hacking program against the firewalls that he copied onto his 'tool. Nothing. We tried for ages and got nowhere. Excellent.

Now I had a nearly unhackable omni-tool and a high-powered hacking program. Sweet.

Malitae was still with me through all of this until the coordinates I had sent the councillor after I got the money were verified. She had stopped trying to surreptitiously spy on me after I had my omni-tool security upgraded but she still watched me closely. I had only allowed her in the same room, but I made sure that I had sat far enough away that we wouldn't have been overheard. Stayed within sight but not sound. Not to mention a little electronic bug that I had Hectar cook up that would block any electronic audio receptors from picking up our whispers. I was busy and new to this universe, but that didn't make me stupid. If anything I was overly paranoid.

Other than that, Torrin had officially accepted, which I thought was great. I had a powerful turian biotic on my team, which was awesome. He was going to prove his worth over the next couple of years, if he stuck around that long. I thought he might. The kid certainly had a chip on his shoulder when it came to dealing with slavers and there were certainly going to be slavers in my near future. He would get his fill. In the meantime, he was currently coordinating with some of the other homeless kids to find a building that I could buy and set up as an orphanage. I still had a soft spot for kids and thought that it was about time that someone did something to help them. Klara had already agreed to live in the orphanage, which I was pleased with. I could drop by and see her anytime.

"Mr Neilson, your next appointment is ready," Malaea's voice came over the intercom and broke into my thoughts.

I sighed and rubbed my eyes. "Give them a minute and then send them in," I instructed.

That brought me back to what I was currently doing. I had been interviewing new potential crew members. This round of interviewees were doctors, applying for the ship's doctor I had posted a week before. Most of the applicants were qualified in in general but many of them had a few small issues of racism against quarians or they were not overly familiar with human physiology due to our recent emergence in the galactic community. The racism thing was something that was a big concern considering the value that I had placed on Ely and Hectar as people in my crew. They had gone above and beyond in making sure that the journey so far was going according to plan. I didn't want anything that would make their time under me uncomfortable. The human biology issues, interestingly enough, came mostly from salarians. The turians had learned plenty about human biology from the invasion at Shanxi, treating wounded soldiers and civilians which they had added to their medical databases with a surprisingly high level of efficiency. Asari just enjoyed humans and the variety of human cultures. Salarians, they tended to ignore us more than the others did.

But I wanted to have the same level of inclusion and camaraderie that I had enjoyed thus far even with an expanded team, which meant that I was a little more selective. I mean, I would settle for someone that maintained a professional demeanour but I would prefer a natural melding into the crew while at the same time being trustworthy enough to stay loyal to their employer, namely me. So far I didn't feel that many of the applicants were able to fit the mould. Maybe one or two would be alright but I still had some reservations.

The other problem with these job openings is that I was a little more suspicious of any applicants ever since I had my little 'meeting' with the asari councillor. She'd gone so far as to have a Spectre standing by for that meeting and I doubted that she would be so happy as to just give me money for selling asteroids if there was another way to take them. It was easier and cheaper to just have someone snuck into my crew or have someone follow me into space. That way they would get the location and I wouldn't get a single credit.

As such, I had my little quarian friends running background checks on all of the candidates. I told them to be very thorough but Ely was only happy to do it. She had been in the meeting with Tevos and she was smart enough to know the stakes. I didn't ask how they got their information, just that they were accurate. So far it had yielded mostly benign results but that there had been one or two interesting things come up. Such as the latest candidate.

The door hissed open and an asari walked in. She looked more mature than Aleria but less than Salaen, so my first thought was 'matron'. Not that the title meant that much really; matrons were still hundreds of years old.

The woman was a dark blue colour with pink facial tattoos on her cheeks and forehead. It almost looked like some of the turian face markings that I had seen around the Citadel. It made sense though. Asari of all ages sought to expand their personal horizons beyond their own cultures, if only slightly. That mostly meant doing minor cosmetic things like copying the turian face markings or having human-style eyebrows painted on.

I stood as she entered and nodded in greeting. The blue alien walked up and sat down in the chair I gestured for her to take.

"Greetings Doctor D'Melie," I said, calling her by the name that was on her application. "My name is Brock Nielson."

She gave a single nod in greeting. "A pleasure to meet you," she replied, her voice soft but pleasant and very cultured. "Thank you for receiving my application."

I sat back in my chair, watching her closely. "How could I not?" I stated evenly. "I need a ship's doctor and you have been a practicing medic for longer than humanity has been in space, according to your application."

She gave a small smile but didn't reply. She just eyed me closely, but it didn't feel like it was a suspicious or glaring look. More like she was waiting to see what I would do. Maybe it was evaluating.

I deliberately pushed the terminal containing her information to the side, slightly out of the way. "Tell me about yourself," I said.

She sat upright. "I graduated third in my class from the Lady Athame Medical School on Thessia nearly four hundred years ago," she said, sounding like she was reciting something from memory. "I worked with the Quarian Parliament during the geth uprising aiding soldiers in battle and after that I spent nearly a hundred years as a traveling surgeon throughout the Republics. After that I moved her to the Citadel where I have been since…"

She trailed off and looked surprised as I raised my hand to interrupt her. "My apologies," I said. "That was the information I could just read from your application. What I want to know is more information about you. Likes, dislikes, weaknesses, personal preferences, interesting connections… that sort of thing."

She stared at me in mild confusion for a long moment before responding. "There isn't much to tell really," she replied uncertainly. "I like opera and bioball tournaments. I have a slight weakness for drinking Thessian wines in my off time but not so much as to be a concern or to disrupt my work. I don't really know anyone all that influential. I'm sorry but I don't really know what you want me to say."

I raised an eyebrow, trying to look politely surprised. "Is that all?" I replied, making it sound as if I was merely being curious. "So a gambling habit and personal meetings with the asari councillor wouldn't be of note?"

She looked as if she was doing her utmost best to imitate a goldfish. "Yes," I continued, keeping my voice casual. "I think I can understand how such a high-profile connection could be so insignificant to such a medical professional as yourself." I looked at the terminal screen, bringing up the information that Hectar and Ely had sent me on this particular applicant. "After all, for a woman who has really been a medical professional for the Eclipse for the last fifty years, I imagine that meeting privately with Councillor Tevos yesterday at four-thirty in the afternoon, Citadel Standard Time would possibly be quite routine for you."

I looked back at her to see her face had gone considerably more pale than it had been when she walked in. "Now, I don't know what the nice councillor told you about me but I don't like having my time wasted and I feel that anything you were going to say would be nothing more than another step in wasting my time. Thank you for your time, Doctor D'Melie. I do hope that you can play cards better than you play at quasar machines."

Her faced flushed a dark purple at that but she stood up and left as fast as she could while maintaining her dignity.

I shook my head at the closed door. I opened up my terminal and quickly tapped out a message.

 _Nice try with the doctor. Remember, I don't like having my time wasted, here or out there._

 _Kind regards,_

 _Brock Nielson, CEO, Shieldstar Corp._

I sent it to the office of Councillor Tevos. I sat there and wondered if I should take any further action for her little trick as payback. I decided against it, for now at least. I had money but I didn't have enough cards to play yet. None that I was ready to use anyway.

I turned back to my terminal and got ready for the next applicant.

…

Tevos looked at the screen in front of her, feeling irked.

 _Nice try with the doctor. Remember, I don't like having my time wasted, here or out there._

 _Kind regards,_

 _Brock Nielson, CEO, Shieldstar Corp._

She had to admit, if he had done this to either of the other councillors then she would have found it far more amusing than it currently was. Though privately, after how he had so easily controlled their meeting, she might have been a little disappointed if he had fallen to her attempt at having someone on his ship. The advertisements he had put up looking for crew meant that it seemed far too easy to have one of her people there to report on him. But he hadn't disappointed; he had found the doctor out very quickly. It was a moment that was both satisfying and disappointing in equal measure. Finally, a human with a modicum of intelligence that could be respected. Much more enjoyable than the braying of Udina. Mr Neilson had said it true: if the ambassador was the best that the Alliance could find to represent them, then they would not be well received for a long time.

 _Remember, I don't like having my time wasted, here or out there._ She considered that line again. Should she continue trying to have someone infiltrate his ship, it might be almost entertaining to see what he would do to retaliate. Her train of thought stopped as she felt a flash of annoyance run through her at thought of the fallout that was still going on from Maryssa's attempts to annoy the human. The receptionist was good, very good. Good enough that Tevos was reluctant to let her go. But the behaviour she had displayed, not to mention looking up drell porn on a work station on her shift… it meant that there had to be at least some disciplinary action. The maiden was still on suspension for hurting the reputation of the Office of the Councillor. It would be a long time before she would be able to move her career forward now. Too bad, too. The girl had so wanted to become a politician. That was likely to be pushed back nearly a century.

No, it wouldn't do to risk it now, she realised reluctantly. The human seemed to be very capable at cooking up benign revenge plots that could do significant damage while not actually doing too much, and he was paranoid enough to be able see most likely traps. Frustrating, but respectable. She would let things run their course for now and deal with him above board. Besides, with the way that the batarian ambassador was starting to make complaints about reparations to, well, everyone, she was going to be too busy to focus on the human for a while.

She turned back to her terminal, not even noticing the small smile she had on her lips as she did so.

…

Another week passed with me on the Citadel before I had enough crew to begin the next stage in Operation: Save the Galaxy. I had settled on a turian woman named Liserias as the ship doctor. She was passed middle age for a turian and had actually fought in the First Contact War as a field medic. She had left the military life straight afterwards due to problems she had had with the whole conflict. She had disagreed with the need for there to be a war in the first place, but as she was in the minority with her opinions she had felt that the armed forces were not for her. Afterwards she had left to work on the Citadel and was doing work in the clinics throughout the Wards. Now she wanted to get back out into space and figured that joining up was as good a way to do it as any. I promised her that she was likely to see a lot of work. She kind of reminded me of Dr Chloe Michel later on, just turian and more formal in her mannerisms. From the work in the Wards, she had plenty of experience in dealing with quarians and didn't have a problem. I didn't see her really letting her hair down and becoming overly chummy with the crew but she could keep things professional which was good enough for me.

As an armour technician I had gone with a salarian that went by the name Chop, though his full name was far too long for me to memorise. He assured me that it was fine as only other salarians would most likely be able to memorise it. He was very laid back and didn't care who he had to work with so long as he was able to get paid to work on new armour. I told him that I had plenty of plans for modifications and other things I wanted done and he had been happy to join up.

The final member of my crew for the moment was a young human engineer that was little more than a university graduate. Carlos Santini was his name and he was an eager young kid that wanted to get out there and see the galaxy. I wasn't sure how he would fit into the crew but I would let Ely be the judge. The kid certainly had energy.

During that time, the crew hadn't been idle. I had Aleria and Ely out shopping for weapons. I told them I wanted the strongest shotguns, assault rifles, sniper rifles and pistols that they could find. I gave them a budget of two million and told them to go nuts for me and have it delivered to the ship. I also had Chop bring a suit of armour for seven crew members. I didn't give him specifics for what I wanted, I just told him that it had to be upgradable. He enthusiastically agreed and went off whistling.

I was walking through the Lower Wards looking to pick up some supplies for the journey when I swung by a bar to pick up a crate of drinks, both levo and dextro. I had Torrin with me as Aleria refused to let me walk around on my own. With her running the pre-flight warmup and getting the rest of the new people settled in the ship, Hectar looking out in engineering and running a few anti-tracking programs, as well as updating the communications array for me and Ely out shopping for another ship for when I planned to expand, it left my newest crew member as my chaperone. Aleria still wasn't happy, but Torrin was familiar with the Lower Wards and while untrained was still a powerful biotic. Honestly though, Aleria was worrying about me a lot. It was starting to get a little cloying.

We arrived at the bar, named Rustic Chalice, and I was drastically underwhelmed. The place looked like an old dive bar and that would be overly generous. It was in a dodgy area and was little more than a hole in the wall with an overhanging eave and a few grimy stools at the bar. Already there were three large krogan, two in red armour and one in black. I had a feeling that the ones in red armour might be Blood Pack mercs.

"Get lost, whelps," the black armoured krogan growled at the other two.

"Come on old man," one of the red armoured krogan grunted. He was slightly shorter than the other one and had a grey head plate. "You can join us, make some quick cash, kill a few squishies. It will be just like old times."

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say as the black armoured krogan turned around and gave a massive headbutt to the smaller merc. The smaller alien was completely unprepared and fell on his armoured backside five meters from where he had been standing. The taller red armoured merc started to reach for the weapon on his back before a massive fist caught him in the jaw and sent him stumbling back. He started to rise only to see a massive shotgun in his face.

"Don't even think about it," the black armoured krogan growled, his voice cold. "Garm stole the best part of my life. He and the rest of the Blood Pack can go rot for all I care." Suspicions confirmed.

The mercs slowly got to their feet, being careful not to reach of their weapons.

"Come off it Jurt," the smaller one said, amazing me with its attempt at negotiation. "There are plenty of other asari out th…"

He didn't even finish the sentence before the black armoured krogan, Jurt, aimed at him and pulled the trigger. The mercs shields flashed blue as they failed and he went down bleeding. The taller merc didn't even have a chance to flinch before the shotgun was back aimed at his face.

"That wasn't enough to kill him but he will be down for a while," Jurt spat angrily. "Get him out of here and tell the others that I won't be so gentle with the next lot."

The taller merc growled but didn't reply before he went over to his downed comrade. He grabbed the smaller and hoisted him over his shoulder. He walked away carrying his load, not even looking back as Jurt went back to the back and ordered a drink from a salarian bartender that I hadn't noticed earlier.

"What was all that about?" Torrin whispered to me.

I eyed Jurt. "I would hazard a guess that the Blood Pack hurt or killed his woman and that he now doesn't like them very much," I responded.

A plan started to form in my head. A krogan could be useful. A krogan that didn't like slaving mercs like the Blood Pack could be even better.

I led a very wary Torrin over to the bar.

"Ah, customers," the bartender said in the typical quick pace associated with salarians. "What can I get you, gentles?"

"I have an order ender the name Glasgow Knight," I replied. I hadn't wanted to use a name that meant anything to me, my crew or my ship so just came up with random words. Not that it mattered to a salarian.

"Of course," the salarian said, his face shifting into a smile. "One moment." He disappeared into the back room.

I looked casually over at the krogan who was sitting there drinking what I could only assume was a bottle of ryncol. He noticed me looking out of the corner of his eye and turned to glare at me.

"What do you want, human?" he growled.

I just looked at him passively, not intimidated. "I saw your conversation with the mercs," I replied. "Somehow I get the feeling that you don't like mercs very much."

His mouth twisted into what I assume was a sneer. "None of your damn business," he said, his tone threatening.

I shrugged, doing my best to not let the tension that was starting to build up show. "You're right," I confirmed. "None of my business why you hate them. But, I figure that maybe you would be more willing to hire on because of it."

Torrin stiffened next to me but I ignored him. The krogan looked at me fully, his face now twisted into a frown. "I ain't looking for work," he said dismissively.

"Maybe not," I replied. "But I am looking at doing some work that is going to kill a lot of slavers and possibly a few mercs. I reckon that you might be able to teach me more about that."

He looked at me with an expression that was what I was going to assume was sceptical. "Skinny thing like you?"

I chuckled and looked down at myself. Over the weeks that I had been here I had been keeping up with my exercises. Plenty of running around my cargo hold and lots of weights meant that my strength was coming back. Combine the exercise with increasingly regular amounts of food and I had started to gain a little size, mostly muscle. But Jurt was right, I was still skinny.

"Yeah, I admit that I am going to be getting a lot of training in before that," I said still looking down. "But yes, that is…" I looked back up to see his shotgun in my face and whatever I was planning on saying stopped dead.

"Never take your eyes off your mark," he growled at me.

A flash of blue out the corner of my eye warned me of Torrin charging his biotics and I quickly held up a hand to him, keeping my eyes on the krogan and not the gun in my face.

"You are not a mark," I said, doing my best to keep my voice even. "Not as far as I am concerned anyway."

"Yeah right," he spat. "What do you really want? Speak quick, my trigger finger is itching."

"I want you to help me kill slavers and free slaves," I said, speaking fast but keeping my voice calm, despite my heart pounding. I thought it might leap out of my chest; it was like facing that riot all over again. "My friend here has had a lot his other friends kidnapped by slavers taking out the duct rats." Torrin twitched a little but kept silent. "I need experience in fighting and the galaxy isn't going to miss a few slavers and slave owners. I am going to Earth to get a combat trainer and a few other things before I start doing anything and after watching your little pow-wow with the Blood Pack mercs I figured you would be a great addition. I can pay you well for your services and your time and having a krogan would be great for a few of the things that I plan on doing."

"Freeing slaves, huh?" The krogan had a hard look in his eye. The barrel of the gun didn't move but his finger came off the trigger. A positive step in the right direction. "Why do you care about them?"

"Because they matter to people like my friend Torrin here," I said. "And I know enough about being held against my will to know that many of them would rather not be there."

A long tense silence passed before the gun lowered, collapsed and disappeared behind the back of the krogan. I let out a silent breath slowly, trying to not let the others show.

"What do you know about being held?" he asked suspiciously.

I cocked my head a little. "If you join me then maybe you'll find out."

He grunted and turned back to his drink. I looked at the bar and noticed that the salarian was standing there watching. I had no idea how long he had been there; he must have arrived while I was busy looking at the gun in my face.

"Here is your order good sirs," he said cheerfully, now that blood wasn't likely to be shed on his bar. He placed two large crates on a hover trolley and passed it to me. "The trolley is yours, you paid for it with the order."

I nodded my thanks to the bartender.

"Three conditions," Jurt said from his spot. I looked at him and saw him staring hard at me. I gestured for him to continue.

"One: you help me with a little job of my own while we do your work," he said. "Two: if we come up against Garm, I get to be the one to kill him. Three:" his mouth opened in a wide grin, "you bring the ryncol."

I looked at him and considered his conditions. "What's the job?" I asked.

"You'll find out if I join you," he countered, a large toothy grin on his face.

I raised an eyebrow at him, feeling a little irked for having my own statement turned on me. "Touché."

I turned to the bartender. "Give me all the ryncol you have." Jurt chuckled and stood up.

"Sounds like we got a deal," he said.

I nodded and held out my hand. "Brock Nielson," I said.

He reached out and shook it, nearly crushing my hand in his armoured glove. "Ravanor Jurt."

I told him where the ship was docked and advised him that we left in three hours. He went off to grab his gear. I paid for the ryncol and another crate was added to the trolley. We walked until we were out of sight of both the car and the newest crew member and I collapsed to my knees.

Torrin was right by my side. "Are you ok?" he asked, his tone worried.

I stared at him in wonder. "I just had a krogan hold a shotgun to my face," I exclaimed. "I think I need some clean underwear."

He started laughing and I joined in. "That was either the bravest or the stupidest thing I have ever seen," he said, his voice full or mirth.

I coughed a couple of times as my laughed began to subside. "Oh, trust me, my turian friend," I replied, wiping a tear from my eye. "Stick with me and you are going to be saying that a lot."

He chuckled again and helped me to my feet.

"Come on, let's get back to the ship," he said. "I don't think you want to have the crew surprised by a krogan rocking up unannounced."

I agreed and we headed for the nearest fast transit aircar.

…

 **A/N Follow/Favourite/Review as you please.**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N I own a disk but not the rights to it.**

 **Hi loyal readers and those who wander into this story by accident or on purpose. Thank you for your patience. School is beating the hell out of me and I don't have anywhere near as much time as I would like to update this. Do not fear, I have not quit the story, as this chapter shows. Again, updates are not going to be as fast as they were in the beginning but that is because I had more time back then. I will continue and hope that you will be patient. Please keep sending Reviews and Follow/Favourite the story. It helps motivate me to make extra time for it.**

 **Also, I hope that none of you or your loved ones were involved in that mass shooting in Vegas. Stay safe friends.**

 **Comments:**

 **frankieu, Sornosquinfallen, Colshan, BJ Hanssen, Xenozip, Squadpunk 2.0, betapike, Archangel319, Guest - thank you all. Your support is important and I value it.**

 **Blaze1992 – thanks for all your reviews. To answer your original second question, there will be some that is not native to ME universe eventually, some that will be revamps or current (our world) tech and others are revamps of ME tech. Seeing as I am trying to make things at least 'reasonable' in a sense, I can't really see introducing technology that is impossible to replicate without having a basis in their ME tech abilities. So no X-Com mind rays or covenant plasma launchers without there being a reasonable way to introduce them. Hope that made sense.**

 **Dahakstaz – thanks. Drell are in mind for the future. The observation satellite for the Omega 3 Relay is already in mind for later. Don't think I will go so far into buying scrapped dreadnoughts. They tend to bring a fair bit of attention to the buyers. As for Miranda, according to the official Mass Effect timeline, was born in 2150, which would make her 31 years old as of the MC arrival in the story. She just ages slower than a normal human would.**

 **Artyom-Dreizehn – yeah she is. And actually no, my use of Glasgow Knight was not a reference to Code Geass. Just a happy coincidence. Not really familiar with CG. Is it any good?**

 **On with the story!**

…

 **CHAPTER 13 – CREW TIME**

I sat in my seat at the navigations console in the cockpit and watched as Aleria took us out the relay. Leaving the Citadel behind actually made me feel a sense of relief. The place was almost like a vipers den of backstabbing and coercion. I had been on alert ever since my meeting with Tevos, luckily, and now that I was away from the place I could finally let my guard down a little. Not too much though. I didn't want a repeat of Sel's actions, after all. Once I could confirm that the others were not likely to interfere with the plans then I would be able to trust them

At the moment I had mentally cleared all three of my remaining original crew. They had proven their trustworthiness during the Sel incident. I was also pretty sure that I could clear Torrin. Having been a duct rat the odds of him being a plant were nearly beyond remote. Now that I had the beginnings of an orphanage running back on the Citadel, his loyalty was basically guaranteed.

The only other person that I could feel reasonably confident wasn't likely to be an informant was Jurt. Seeing as my having run into him was purely coincidental, I wasn't overly suspicious of anyone having found him and turning him before he got onto the ship. Besides, I don't see Tevos hiring a krogan as a spy. The Shadow Broker, maybe, but unlikely. There were more subtle characters for spying. Krogan make great muscle but stealth… nope.

That only left Liserias, Chop and Carlos. I felt reasonably confident that they were not agents of the asari councillor as using them would have likely been a risk of them tipping off their own races of Tevos' and my subterfuge. That didn't mean that they were not possible informants of other organisations such as Turian Intelligence or STG, or even Cerberus in Carlos's case, but I felt that the risk was rather low. Chop was middle aged for a salarian and according to the information that my trustworthy quarians had dug up had never worked in the military. He had solely worked for Kassa Fabrications for the last eight years working on their Colossus armour range. It was high-end armour so I was happy for him to be there, plus it was a human run corporation and seeing as there had not been any big corporate thefts from there I could make a relatively secure guess that he was clean.

Carlos was just a young guy in the galaxy, having only graduated from university a year and a half ago. He hadn't held down a steady job but instead had been bounced around on different star ships throughout Alliance space. That had concerned me a little but the references he had given were pretty solid so I was willing to give him a go. He hadn't joined the military as far as we could find out. I couldn't find anything that might point to Cerberus but that might not mean anything. Overall I thought the risk of it was pretty low.

Liserias was the harder one to be sure of. Being a turian meant that it was unlikely that she was an agent for Tevos. Military intelligence was a possibility but I had confidence that Tevos wasn't incompetent enough to let Sparatus know what had happened. Valern might have been smart enough to realise something but I don't think he would have sent a turian to join my team. It most likely would have been an STG member in disguise, though I wouldn't be taking anything for granted at this stage.

"Hitting the relay in 3… 2… 1… mark," Aleria called out, breaking into my thoughts. A bright flash filled the cockpit as the arc of energy leapt out from the relay core and connected with the ship. A soft judder later and we had moved into the next system.

"We're clear from the relay, five thousand kilometre drift," Aleria reported. She turned to look at me. "So, are you ready to head back to the homeworld?" Her tone was playful.

I gave her a blank look. "Last time I was there it wasn't exactly a vacation for me," I said, keeping my tone carefully neutral.

She immediately sobered up and looked panicked. "Oh no, I am so sorry…"

I couldn't help it. I let out a tiny smile.

She noticed and immediately fired up in indignation. "Brock, don't do that!" she cried out. "That is so mean! How could you joke about that sort of thing?"

I couldn't help chuckling a little at getting one over her. "Well, according to your aunt, the fact that I can comment at all means that I am either improving or a complete psychopath. Do you think I am a psychopath?"

She gave me a glare but shook her head. "No I don't. But it was still cruel. You know I am just trying to help you."

I raised my hands in mock surrender. "All right, I apologise. I won't set you up. On that topic anyway."

She pouted cutely then gave me a smile. "I _am_ glad that you were able to make a joke about it though," she said. "It's a good sign."

I nodded and stood up. "ETA to Earth?" I asked.

She turned back to her instruments. "Looks like we will be there in three more jumps. Total travel time is forty two hours."

I nodded again. "I am going to see how the new crew are settling in," I said. "Keep me posted."

"Righto Cap!" she said very cheerfully.

I headed down to the first level of the crew decks, which I had designated the upper crew deck. Again, not the most imaginative but it was function over form. At the forward port observation deck, which was a rather large room with a decent viewport, Chop had set up shop. Almost literally. The room was pretty large and he had it all to himself so he had wasted no time in converting it to a large workshop space where he could work on the crew's armour without being interrupted or feeling too confined.

Well, except for when I walked in to interrupt him.

The room was a mess of boxes, tools, a new workbench and a few armour stands. A cot looked like it had been hastily assembled in a corner behind another stack of boxes. A clattering from another pile of boxes drew my attention as Chop appeared, carrying what looked like discs of some sort and dropped them at on the bench.

"Captain! Welcome. Didn't hear you, busy sorting shield modulators." He definitely had the sort of endearing salarian manner of clipped conversations. Made things faster. I could respect that. I wasn't usually one for long drawn out conversations myself. With the crew was easier because I made the effort, but I could handle a quicker conversation.

"Yes it looks like you certainly have made yourself at home," I replied dryly. The room had to be nearly a hundred square metres, possibly even larger than the cockpit area, and yet you couldn't tell that from the space that was seen here.

"Of course," he replied. "Need to have a functional workspace to boost creativity. Work better that way."

"Well I won't be the one to hamper your creativity," I said. "Any problems so far?"

He tilted his head back a little in a gesture that I had come to recognise meant 'thoughtful' from my other interactions with salarians on the Citadel.

"Not as such. Asari and quarian employees are no issue. Haven't spoken to the doctor or the other human yet." He gave what would probably amount to a long pause for a salarian. "Krogan growled at me."

"Growled?" I responded. "Did he make any threats against you?"

"No no. Meant that literally. Growled. From the far side of the common room on mid crew deck. Believe I will stay on this deck unless necessary to go elsewhere."

"I see." I obviously needed to have a talk with Jurt to make sure that he didn't try anything. The animosity between krogans and salarians was legendary, even for a trans-universal person such as myself, and I didn't need a smaller version of the krogan rebellions on my ship.

"Have managed to procure the armour that you requested," he said, changing topic. "Human and asari very similar. Turians, not so much. Quarians don't have combat armour. Use armour upgrades to their suits."

"Good to know. I want to be able to put mine on when you have a chance to get things organised in here." Never having worn armour before, I imagined that I would need a little time to get used to things. "We can also talk about a few custom upgrades I want to make to the armour, interface and so forth."

"Yes yes. Am interested to hear your thoughts. Nice to be able to experiment again."

With that he turned back to his boxes, his request obvious through his body language. I turned and left the room and decided to head down to visit the medbay next. It was on the way to my run in with my new krogan so it made more sense to do things in some sort of order.

The medbay was another large room in almost the centre of the middle crew deck. It had clear windows on either side that could be turned opaque for patient confidentiality in an instant. I hadn't really stocked it up that much before I left on the maiden voyage, only a few antibiotics for the quarians and a few bandages and med-gel canisters for the rest of us. As a result, I was not overly surprised to see that my new doctor had decided to give the place a professional face lift.

Much like Chop's workspace, Liserias had transformed a neat and orderly medbay into a box holiday home. Crates of syringes, surgical tools and things that looked suspiciously like middle dark-age torture devices were stacked around the room or placed on the eight patient beds. There was a pallet of medi-gel against one wall that would be stored in the various compartments and dispensers around the place once the medic was finished.

The turian woman looked up as I walked in but didn't stop her efforts to organise her work area.

"Captain," she greeted formally.

"Doctor," I replied, leaning against the door frame. "How are you settling in?"

She chuckled and gestured to the boxes around her. "I will let you know when I actually am, Captain. For such a small crew, you have more supplies here than I have seen in many clinics."

It's true, I had made sure to get everything I could reasonably find that might be necessary. There were the standard scratch-patches all the way up to being able to do full surgeries and limb cloning here. Cost me nearly a billion credits to organise it all but I had no idea how my plan was going to be on the success scale and I wanted to be prepared.

"Call me Brock," I said.

She shook her head. "No offence intended, but I prefer to call the Captain of a ship 'Captain'. It's a respect thing that has been ingrained in me for longer than you have been alive and I wouldn't feel comfortable in doing otherwise."

I gave a small smile. "Fair enough. Well, Doctor, I believe that having the crew fully prepared for anything important. No kill like overkill."

She finally paused her unpacking and looked at me, her head tilted. "A human saying?"

I nodded. "Sounds like something a krogan might come up with, doesn't it?"

She chuckled again and resumed her task. "Indeed. I have found that you humans have a tendency to be able to associate with all the attitudes of all the different species out there far better than nearly anyone else, except possibly the asari. Many turians respect human military doctrine. They don't like humans but they respect the doctrines. The salarians would be the only ones who would be able to match human creativity, krogans are the ones that would exceed your brutality, the asari like your culture. You are a universal race."

I cocked m head as I looked at her thoughtfully. "I don't think that your thoughts would be shared by the majority of the Hierarchy," I commented dryly.

She nodded once in agreement without looking at me. "What I have noticed is that we are more similar than the Hierarchy would like to admit. It bothers them that the Alliance was able to challenge them on the same small-scale level that the Shanxi incident was. The Hierarchy prides itself on power, humans challenged that. I think you humans have a saying that it upset the… appor cart."

"Apple cart," I corrected.

"Ah, thank you. You humans use the most metaphors, idioms and turns of phrase out of all the races. It's hard to keep up sometimes. But yes. You upset the balance that has stood for hundreds of years. Your appearance showed us that culturally, societally we had become stagnant and the attitude is now one of superiority that has not been proven since the Krogan Rebellions. And for the few who think like me, which is admittedly few, that war didn't prove our superiority. All it proved was that we were willing to follow the perpetrators of one genocide with another."

I looked at her appraisingly. This was not an attitude that I had seen during our interview. "You have a problem with the salarians and the Hierarchy?"

She huffed a little and looked back at me. "I have been a medic for nearly forty years, Captain. During that time I saw turians abusing power because they were the Spirits-damned Hierarchy and I saw good turians die because the Council sent us to fix their messes. I don't have a problem with turians or asari or salarians. What I have a problem with is people in high places who have a reckless attitude that don't take responsibility for their actions. The Council make mistakes time and again and yet don't get called to account for them because they are experts at misdirection. They exterminated one species and have set about the extermination of another because of mistakes that happened a thousand years ago. I have worked with many species and I know that there are bad and good in every race. The turians, salarians and asari don't have the monopoly on good people. The krogan, batarians and quarians don't have the monopoly of bad people. It is not as simple as the Council or the Hierarchy tries to make people believe. So I decided to get out and make my living helping out anyone that needed it. I did that for twenty years. Now I work for you because you heading out into the stars. From the sounds of it, you are planning to help a few people. Not that there isn't a shortage of people to help on the Citadel, there is just more help available there."

I smile. "Probably best if you don't tell my quarian engineers that you lumped them with the likes of batarians," I said, my tone light.

She gave a barking laugh. "Yes you are probably right. It wasn't meant as a negative statement against them. I have been patching them up for decades. Most of them are greatly skilled but ordinary people." She stood up straight looking around the boxes still to be unpacked. "Now, as much as I enjoy a good conversation, Captain Neilson, is there anything in particular that you need or are you just happy interfering with my organisation abilities?"

I shook my head. "Not really. Once you are done setting things up here I want you to do a check up on everyone in the crew. No exceptions, even from our resident krogan."

"Will do, Captain."

…

I walked in to the windowless storage room to see Jurt sitting down cleaning his gun. An open bottle of ryncol was sitting on the table next to him and it looked half empty. Great. I hoped he wasn't drunk. Otherwise this conversation could be interesting.

He looked up as I entered, grunted and looked back at his gun as he ran an oil cloth over its barrel.

I admittedly didn't have any real experience with krogans yet. I had seen a few of them around the Citadel and I had heard a few things from others I had talked to. The main consensus was to not show weakness to them. They had no respect for weakness and that meant trouble for the weak.

"Jurt," I greeted bluntly.

"Human," came the surly reply. Right. That was about as polite as I was likely to get. Still, I could live with that. It's not like it wouldn't be the first time I dealt with difficult to converse with people.

"Settling in?" I asked, looking around. Unlike the others, he hadn't had a whole bunch of gear. There was his armour, which he was still wearing, a large collection of weapons, mostly shotguns or assault rifles, a few other small bits and bobs and that was it. He had brought his own reinforced bed with him, which made it easier for me. I don't think standard beds are made with krogan in mind.

"I haven't had to shoot anyone, if that's what you're asking," he grunted.

It wasn't but it probably amounted to the same thing in his mind. "Well, that's as good a start as I could probably hope for," I said drily. "So, you ready to talk about this job of yours?"

That got his attention. He looked up at me, trying to pin me with his glare. "You first,' he growled.

I stared at him, remembering our conversation from earlier. I shrugged. "First question?"

He stared at me suspiciously. "What did you mean when you said what you said about being held?"

I fought the flash of annoyance that the topic brought up in me. "I was held in a dungeon by some rather bad people for about nine months before I broke out and escaped," I said, keeping it basic. "They tortured me. A lot."

"How'd you break out?"

"With planning, preparation, dumb luck and sacrificing a fair bit of skin."

"What happened to the ones that tortured you?"

I stared at him for a moment feeling that mix of satisfaction and shame. I fought down the feelings of shame, figuring that the satisfaction would be what would matter to a krogan. "I killed them all."

He sat back in his chair, looking at me. So far, I actually found krogan facial expressions pretty easy to read. It meant that I was able to recognise when Jurt was looking angry, surprised, or just murderous. Luckily, the current expression was more 'mild surprise' than anything.

"How?" he asked, his rough voice making it sound more like a challenge.

I shrugged. "Mostly with my bare hands and a sharp knife. Slowly."

"Got proof?"

I straightened up and half lifted my shirt to show the scars and burn mark on my stomach. His looked at them for a long moment before I dropped it down again and resumed my position against the door frame.

He gave a rumbling chuckle. "Good work. I thought you might have had a quad when you didn't flinch at my shotgun. If you aren't lying then you know the right way to pay your enemies back. Look them in the eyes as you watch them die. Make them feel back the pain they gave you."

My mind flashed with the memory of an eyeless face screaming at me. "Oh, they felt pain all right," I said, shaking the memory off. "Kinda hard to look me in the eyes when they didn't have any left. I didn't leave much that would have been recognisable before they bled out."

"Hah!" Jurt pounded his fists together, clearly getting excited. "You deny them a proper death. That's the best way to make their suffering worse."

"Well, from what I understand with krogans," I said, still leaning casually against the frame with my arms crossed, "is that it is more of an insult to say that someone isn't worth killing. I wish I could say the same for those that held me captive but no, killing them was definitely worth my time."

"Hah, that saying is only really true for the cowards anyway. Those that have already hurt you deserve vengeance."

I nodded. "Your turn," I said evenly.

His amusement crashed immediately and he threw the oil cloth on to his work desk. He reached out to the ryncol and took a swig before he said anything.

"A century or so ago I started running with the different merc groups," he said gruffly, looking off into space as if he was remembering things. "Started out with a group from the Terminus systems, called themselves the Hunters. Small crew, only about twenty of us. We did a lot of things, mostly assassinations, a little body guard work, and every now and then we got drafted by the batarians to do a quick slave run on an unescorted ship going where it shouldn't . Pretty standard, not that you humans really get into the slavery thing. For mercs it's just about the easy credits. Batarians pay well for slavers to be discreet. Stops the Council from pointing the finger at them. Those pyjacks are more concerned about preventing a war than they are about protecting small groups of people anyway.

"After a few decades, the Hunters split up. Most of us ended up starting out another merc group called Hazard Squad. Kept things mostly the same but we expanded the base a little. Before it was just krogans, batarians and a few vorcha. Salarians were not allowed at all. Hazard Squad was less selective. We had a few asari, a couple of salarians and one or two turians to go with the usual crowd. We had near a hundred members at one stage.

"I got close to an asari, her name was Polisa." His voice went soft as her name. Clearly she had meant a great deal to him. "She was beautiful. Skin the colour of a dusk sky on Tuchanka. A dark blueish purple. She was tough but knew how to be gentle. Her father had been a krogan, some warrior who fought in the Rebellions. After working together for a while she became my bondmate. She was the best thing that ever happened to me." He trailed off, looking off into space as he reminisced. I let him be, knowing from experience that good memories were treasures not to be trifled with.

After nearly a minute he shook himself out of his thoughts. "Things were going alright until about the time that your people came out into the galaxy. The big two merc groups, Blood Pack and Eclipse were expanding and Blue Suns was just starting out. There was a big recruitment drive among those three, trying to do whatever they could to get members. Most of the little ones joined up. It made things easier when there was less competition. I think the older merc groups were trying to choke off the Suns but they had deeper pockets than anyone gave them credit for and they became number three pretty easy.

"About five years later I had a place on Omega. It wasn't much. I just kept it mostly for Polisa. I had joined up with the Blood Pack. It felt good to be fighting mostly with other krogan. Sure there were plenty that were privateers that I fought against, but fighting alongside them made my blood sing. It's what I was meant to do! Anyway, I came back from a job to find that the house had been ransacked. The place looked like a battlefield." His expression turned dark. For a moment I noticed his fingers stretching towards his trigger and I tensed up, getting ready to move if I needed. After a long tense moment, Jurt relaxes and his hands move away. I let out a slow breath, feeling relieved.

"Turns out," he continued, his voice gruffer than before, "Garm had thought that me having an asari bondmate was a disgrace for what it meant to be krogan. He had sent me on a mission to get me away and had sent some other of the gang in and they had captured her and sold her as a slave. I fell into the worst blood rage I had ever been in when I found out. I tried to get in and kill Garm the moment I heard it from his dismissive mouth. I wanted to rip his head plate off and beat him to death with it. Didn't matter. He had the numbers. Beat me half to death, not before I killed a few of them though. I left the Blood Pack after that and swore off slaving. Been trying to find out who he sold Polisa to ever since. Found out one of her owners but he had sold her on to someone else. Found out where they are a year ago but I haven't been able to get close enough to take her back."

He leaned back and levelled a glare at me. "That's the job," he growled at me. "You help me find a way to get to her and get her out of slavery alive and I will follow to the ends of the damn galaxy."

I stood there, letting the story sink in as I thought about it. I looked him in the eye. "If you had asked me to do it, I would have," I said evenly. "You didn't need to make it a condition of you joining."

He grunted. "Maybe, but I didn't know you," he pointed out. "Still don't. You betray me and I will rip your spine out and use it as a hat stand."

I smile tightly, feeling better about him being here already. "Just so we understand each other," I said. "I am happy to help you out, just as I would anyone else in my crew." I turned my face as serious and dark as I could, years of practice from prisons making it pretty convincing. "You betray me or my crew though, and I will find a way to rip your head plate off and use it as a lid for my toilet."

He visibly winced at that then looked at me and nodded. "Sounds like a fair deal."

I nodded back, feeling satisfied.

…

I had made it a point to avoid engineering as much as possible. Not because I didn't want to talk to Ely, but because I had no idea what I would do there and considering how busy she always seemed I didn't want to distract her too much. That said, the place was fascinating on a certain level.

Despite the fact that the eezo core itself was rather small, the room was possibly the largest on the ship, save for the cargo bay. It was one of the reasons that I had bought the ship after all. I planned on taking that little frigate level eezo core and putting something in it that the captain of the _Destiny Ascension_ would be proud of. If I could, that is. I would let my engineers figure that out.

Ely and Hectar were both standing at different terminals as I came in, focusing on their holographic displays. I had no idea where Carlos was but his voice came through a little speaker on Ely's terminal.

"How about now?" he asked.

"It's about eight percent better," Ely responded, sounding frustrated. "Still about twenty two percent short of the goal though."

"Right, let me try something else," Carlos replied, sounding distracted.

"Remember, you do any damage down there and I will be forced to make you spacewalk." It actually sounded a little funny and not all that threatening coming from Ely. She sounded too sweet and innocent most of the time. Carlos just mumbled something back.

"What was that?" Ely demanded, sounding more threatening than before.

"Nothing, ma'am."

"That's right." She shut off the intercom.

I chuckled at her management style. "Is everything all right?" I called out from my spot just inside the door.

Ely and Hectar both jumped. Engrossed as they were in their work, they hadn't noticed me arrive.

"Brock!" Ely exclaimed. "Sorry, I didn't see you there." Hectar nodded in agreement.

I gave them a tight grin. "I can be quiet when I need to," I said. "What's going on with the new guy?"

"Oh, he is trying to reconfigure some stabilisers to the hydraulic loader and internal maintenance arms," Ely explained. "There has been some wear and tear that I had noticed before but didn't have time to get to."

"Plus she didn't want to have to crawl through the maintenance shaft to get to it," Hectar mumbled.

She sent a quick look that probably translated as a mock-glare. "Neither did you!" She looked back at me. "Anyway, I sent Carlos to go and make the adjustments."

I nodded slowly. "How is he so far?"

The two quarians shared a look. "Well, he is pretty eager to help," Hectar said hesitantly. I could feel a 'but' coming.

"But he does have a few… peculiar ideas," Ely finished. Nailed the 'but'. _Hmmm that sounded dirtier than I had meant for it to_.

"Peculiar… bad?" I asked.

They both shook their heads. "No, just not overly helpful," Ely said. "Things that we could think of on our own or older ideas that he has obviously learnt from a manual somewhere without learning better ways. I mean, it is a little hard to say how he is going because he has only worked with us for less than two days but he could be good here, if he listens and learns."

Hectar was rubbing his arm a little in that nervous trait that I had recognised. Clearly something was bothering him.

"Problem, Hectar?" I asked.

He visibly stiffened a little, then relaxed. "Well, he does… stare. At Ely I mean. And Aleria too, when he saw her. I mean, not just looking but really just staring, like when Ely was leaning over a reactor coil…" he drifted off as Ely looked down, rubbing her arm as a way of showing discomfort.

"Did you know about this Ely?" I asked.

She looked back up at me and shook her head.

I sighed. Carlos's first day and I already had to deal with a horny engineer with a thing for aliens. _Well, it wasn't the first time_ , I thought as I remembered Sel.

"All right, I will talk to him about that later," I said. "I don't want my two favourite quarians feeling uncomfortable when they are on my ship. I like you both too much to let that happen."

They nodded. "Right, now Ely, I have a task for you to look into," I said, moving onto another topic. "I need more ships, similar to this one. How did you go with the search at the Citadel?"

"Nothing really caught my eye," she said, shrugging.

"Hmmm, unfortunate. Keep looking into it. And a personal pleasure corvette or something, I don't know. Large enough to be comfortable for at least eight people, but small enough to be a leisure craft. I want you to scour the extranet for anything with good potential. When you have a moment free, of course." She nodded, perking right up at the thought of looking at more ships.

"Hectar, I have Chop going through a few sets of armour. I want you to meet up with him and help him incorporate that sensor program you cooked up for me. Again, when you have time. I don't want Carlos to be left here without one of you present. Even if you do your extranet searching down here Ely."

They both nodded again, looking confident. Like they were ready for anything and not the timid personas they had in public on the Citadel. This is what I wanted them to be all the time: confident in their own abilities and their standing in the galaxy. It was progress.

"Good, thanks," I said sincerely. "Now, if anyone needs me I am going to be running in the cargo bay."

With a small I wave I turned and headed to the nearest elevator. Time to move to the next level of training.

…

Torrin was already in the gym when I arrived, wearing some new clothes I had him buy before he got on the ship. He had fought against the idea but I had basically forced him to do it because he only had two sets of clothes and they were tattered horribly. I had bought them for him and Klara, making sure that she would be properly dressed now that the orphanage was in its early phases. That was one thing I had made sure of before I left the Citadel. I had even made sure that my assistant Malaea was coordinating the whole thing for me. She had seemed oddly enthusiastic about it when I had asked her to do it. As it turned out she was happy to have more fulfilling work, or at least something to do. I could respect that. Being bored at work sucked.

Torrin was in clothes that I guessed were the equivalent of workout clothes. It was some odd sturdy plastic looking material. I guess it had to be tough enough to survive being rubbed by scales and plates. I had no idea if turians chafed but truthfully that was information I was happy never finding out about.

"Hey Brock," he greeted me as he rolled his shoulders. "I just wanted to say again that I am really grateful for this. It means a lot to me."

I gave him a small lopsided smile as I quickly stripped my normal clothes and grabbed my exercising gear out of my locker. "Getting in shape to kill slavers means a lot to you?"

He gave a weird chirping grunt. "You don't know how many of my friends I have lost to that scum," he bit out. "Yes, it means a lot."

I gave him my normal small smile. "Well, so long as you do what you are told and at least as hard as me, you will definitely get your shot."

He nodded, his expression serious. "That's all I ask." He jumped a couple times as I finished strapping my shoes. "Now, let me show you how to run like a duct rat." He took off, me running after him.

…

 **A/N Please Review/Follow/Favourite as you please.**

 **A little bit of a filler chapter but I felt it necessary to meet some of the new crew. They will be around for a while so I thought it important enough to warrant a chapter.**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N I own nothing**

 **Hello faithful readers. I apologise for the long wait and thank you for your patience. Sadly, the wait for the next one will likely be a little longer. School is not going as well as I would like and I really need to focus for the next month until exams finish. But don't worry, I won't be giving up on the story. It will be moving into the next arc now and that means that there will be some action, some politics and generally more stuff happening. I am looking forward to seeing the ideas come to life and I hope you will too. I'll admit, this isn't my favourite chapter to lead into the new arc but I have been sick and I still wanted to get something out and I have been mostly done with this chapter for a little while. Still, I hope that you enjoy it and stick around for the new chapters that will be posted in the future.**

 **Also, I have had a couple people message me asking if I will write their stories for them. I am flattered but my answer to this is always going to be a big resounding 'no'. Not because I don't like the ideas but because I like to feel a story from its creation onwards. My primary goal is to write a story that I would enjoy reading because if I don't like it how can I expect others to? If I am writing someone else's story then it feels forced, doesn't flow as well and I am not as personally involved and therefore have less interest in its outcome which results in poor quality work and that drives readers away. So thank you if you have messaged me or if you were thinking of asking me but I have decided that no matter how great the idea might be, I will only be writing my own stories. I am still open to ideas for OCs though, as Torrin shows.**

 **Comments:**

 **Addlcove, Xenozip, ArchAngel319, scorpin17, Alrissa, , frankieu, Sornosquinfallen, jdude281 – thank you all. All positive reviews are appreciated and are great for helping to motivate me to write stuff more frequently.**

 **Alrissa – glad you are interested. Welcome along for the ride!**

 **BJHanssen – yeah, Jurt's history is fairly recent and did come about after Garm took over, obviously. Thanks for letting me know I got it right. I actually didn't remember that info before I posted it so it was a little bit of guessing. Good to see it worked!**

 **DahakStaz – I agree, a base that isn't the Citadel is a must, but those things take time.**

 **dekuton – I agree, why just kill stuff when you can bond doing it?**

 **On with the story!**

…

 **CHAPTER 14 - EARTH**

I looked out the window and stared at the planet below me, feeling a hint of awe breaking through my usual indifferent demeanour. The blue, green and white globe drifted slowly around the axis it had been travelling on for billions of years.

Earth. Humanity's home world.

Home.

I had only ever seen this image in pictures and they had nothing on being able to see it properly in person. It was, for lack of a better word, beautiful.

My mind wandered as I thought about my home. The white sand beaches, the national parks, the way that the sun felt on a lazy weekend. I hadn't realised before how much I had missed those simple comforts. I had been so focussed on the people I had lost that I had not thought about the place that I had called home.

I felt more than a hint of sad nostalgia as I remembered the walks I used to take with Jason along the beach, hearing his laughter as he splashed in the oncoming waves. I felt my throat tighten on the fond memories, before I squashed them down, turning my mind to the job at hand.

I guess my thoughts hadn't been fully confined to my own mind though.

"Are you alright?" Aleria's voice came from my left, her hand touching my arm in a comforting gesture.

I took a deep breath and turned to her. "Yeah," I replied, patting her hand with my own. "Just memories."

I turned back to the window and she returned to her seat. "Alright, let's find a berth and you can drop me in a rented shuttle somewhere near here." I brought up a map and pointed out a location.

Aleria looked at it as I transferred it to her terminal. "How do you pronounce it? Texas?" she asked, looking over at me.

I looked at her and nodded. "Texas."

…

My time spent travelling to Earth was not as casual as I would have liked it to be. Not that I didn't have something to do at all times normally. With all the plans I was going to be trying to set up and the need to be prepared to fight, I was spending a lot of time normally mostly researching and occasionally sending out requests for more information from anyone that I felt the need to ask a question of. One of the more benign requests was to expand my permits lists to being able to create and sell armour. The weapons permits still had not been processed, so far as I was informed, and the CBD was less than prompt in replying to requests of progress updates. Still, according to their schedule, it was likely that I still had about six weeks before I was able to get my confirmation that I had them processed. That didn't mean that I couldn't plan other things.

In the meantime, I was spending a lot of time really pushing myself in my physical exercises. Torrin had become my running partner, which was both a blessing and a dark lesson in self-hatred. Apparently turians are naturally faster than humans by a significant margin. Coupled with the fact that Torrin had been homeless on the Citadel and running away was something he had a lot of practice with, it meant that if I was an optimist I would be viewing it as the most direct way for my body to improve both my endurance and my speed at running long distance. If I was anything else, I would view it as a way to drive myself into the medbay with stress fractures.

To keep up with his casual jog I was running at three quarter pace and doing that for two or three laps of the cargo bay before the damn bird would sprint for a lap. I would try to do it, but my body was not made for such things without massive amount of practice. While I had made great strides in the last six weeks, I was certainly not 'duct-rat turian' fit and the first time I had tried to keep up with my young turian friend I had emptied the contents of my stomach on the floor of the cargo bay. I was determined to succeed though so I forced myself to keep going, spitting out bile as I ran. It had been less than two days since we started but I was already seeing some slight improvement and not feeling as bad. My recovery time was also improving. Small victories.

The physical work was only one aspect. I was also now spending nearly all of my time in the ship wearing armour. Chop had brought with him a set of Colossus VII Light Armour that had been specifically for me. I had also made him bring a second set of medium armour for me to use later on but I wanted to start low and build my way up.

Good thing I did. While Colossus armour is high quality and very expensive, there were definite drawbacks. First off was dexterity in my fingers. Having worn puncture-proof gloves in prison, I was at least prepared with the knowledge that I wasn't going to have the sense of touch that I would have without it. What I wasn't prepared for was the stiffness and thickness of the finger padding. It meant that I felt like my fingers were being pushed further apart by the rigid armour. I didn't want that to affect me too badly so I was doing my best to practice doing little things with my fingers so let used to it. Chop had recommended touch-typing practice on a terminal so I was doing that in my room each night before bed.

Another thing was the weight. A standard set of light armour weighs about twenty five kilograms. Not as bad as I feared really but Kassa Fabrications had apparently made a big deal of using ultra-light materials wherever they could, so long as it didn't sacrifice damage protection. It was part of the reason why their armour was so expensive. Medium armour increased the thickness of the plating and added an extra barrier modulator and a tech/biotic shield generator. It brought the weight up to forty eight kilograms. Despite the fact that the suit was surprisingly comfortable, the extra weight of the armour definitely made me use more effort to get around. I still hadn't returned to my old strength but I was getting much closer. The only problem was that I knew I needed to get much stronger than I had ever been before. The use of gene mods later would help there but I still wanted to build my strength up a little more.

All that meant was that I was restricted to the use of light armour until I was strong enough to go medium. I wasn't sure if I wanted to go to heavy armour. The thickness of the plates gave it a fantastic damage protection rating but the suit weighed nearly sixty kilograms. I wasn't sure that I was really wanting to cart that around with me all the time. It would play hell with my endurance and I would certainly be clumsier with that weight than I would be in a light or ever medium armour hardsuit. Especially not with the upgrades I was hoping to put into the thing.

The main thing that I had been researching on this part of the journey though was Earth. I had no way of knowing if the world and history was the same as my own. Knowing what was the same and what was different was crucial in my opinion. I know that the games had basically just made it the future of the Earth I had grown up on but there was no guarantee that much of the rest was the same. I know that Ashley Williams quoted Tennyson and there were other quotes on Ulysses and so forth but that didn't mean that everything else was the same. It could have been just a few things. Hence, the research of Earth was highly necessary.

The thing that amazed me was that nearly everything about Earth and humanity in the ME universe was the same. And I am talking about a ninety-nine percent match. The main differences that existed was obviously the prothean ruins on Mars. Other than that I could almost have copy and pasted Earth's history and people into this universe and it wouldn't change.

There were a few minor differences though. I couldn't find any reference to Elon Musk in connection with a Mars program or energy company. SpaceX itself existed and had landed people on Mars earlier. A few of the lesser known politicians were different, such as those from Australia, Japan and England. There was no actual law preventing a US president from serving two terms, there just wasn't anyone that was trusted enough to make it that far.

Even the media was the same. The same books and movies that I had read, watched, enjoyed and hated were there. Even the actors were the same for the most part. For example, Tom Hanks existed exactly as he had without the remotest difference form what little in knew about his personal life. On the other hand, Arnold Schwarzenegger existed and looked the exact same but he was known as Arnold Braun here. Still, he was the Terminator. The movies themselves were the same and even though I only saw about three films among all the ones I had searched where the actors were completely different from the ones I had known, the movies themselves were the same and I had even taken a moment to watch them. The acting was the exact same and the plots were unchanged.

When I had gone through that information I felt a small weight lift off my back as a wave of relief washed through me. It allowed me to do a little side project that I had dubbed Operation: Hearts and Minds. That was if I had time and energy to do it. I figured it might be at least a little helpful later.

One thing that stood out to me was that Pokemon didn't exist out here. Bingo: cash cow coming up there, if I have the time to hire the people to code it for me. I remember how much people loved that when I was a kid. Surely the whole galaxy would enjoy it too, especially kids. Somehow I had the feeling that humans today would still love the idea of this. Asari too, I imagine.

The main information I needed specifically for this first part of the trip was more on a historical side. Weapons history to be exact. This was to be my first foray into the world of firearms in this universe and even though I had my own firearms licence in my world and I had researched a lot about weapons in my old life, there had been no guarantee that the weapons I was looking for existed here. Thankfully, there were three weapons that I wanted to use that I had been able to find.

One of the guns that I felt that the ME games, and by extension this ME universe, was a little lacking in had actually existed from the end of the 20th century. It could be summed up in a total of three words.

Fully. Automatic. Shotgun.

A shotgun in the games was powerful but there were drawbacks. Range being a big one. Amount of shots that could be fired before overheating. Weight. Rate of fire. Those were the main things. Having to carry both a shotgun and an assault rifle seemed like it would be a little bulky. Combining them… that was much more efficient. I still didn't have an armourer or gunsmith working for me but that was something I was hoping to overcome very soon.

In both my world and this ME universe I had been able to find three different varieties of full auto shotguns, though there may have been more somewhere else that I hadn't found. The first was the American made AA-12, the second was the Russian made Saiga 12 and the third was the Korean USAS 12. An AA-12 was my preferred choice as it had a much better recoil system. The thing was basically a spring that went the entire length of the gun. It also had a much wider variety of ammunition that could be used for it. The Saiga was also a great shotgun and had a higher rate of fire and it weighed less but the shorter recoil system meant that it was harder to aim. It did have the option of manually switching between single shot and automatic. The AA was more a 'hope you don't get lost in the moment and hold the trigger longer than you meant to' sort of weapon. The USAS was the least preferred option as it tended to have a bigger kick than the other two and I remember reading somewhere that it jammed frequently, so I scrapped that from my list.

The next weapon I wanted to take a look at was the M79 Thumper. It was a grenade launcher that was very easy to use, very accurate and by all accounts I had heard a very good weapon. Anyone who saw Terminator 2 would recognise the thing as the launcher that Arnie used. Low recoil, light weight, fast reload time, good range, high explosives… it had all the hallmarks that I was looking at in a heavy weapon. The only thing was the obvious issue with limited ammo and fire rate. Though that would naturally be a problem for any old weapons that I was thinking of using. I could always go for the bandolier look like Chewbacca but I don't pull off the furry look quite like a wookie. Still, it was something to consider.

I had considered going with a six shot launcher like the MDL. It gave me a better firing rate than the single shot, but they were not as portable as the Thumper and would stick out when attached to the back of my armour. Plus, it would be heavier. I wasn't looking at having something bulky like that sticking out from my armour. A Thumper would be able to fit comfortably in the shotgun spot on my lower back while the AA, if I could get it to collapse, would go in the assault rifle spot.

The final infantry weapon was something that I had in mind for my krogan friend. That would come later though, once I considered him trustworthy enough to give it to him. No one else would be able to carry it.

It was one thing looking up these weapon on the extranet, it was quite another finding out where they could be found. The only places that people still were able to get these types of weapons anymore, especially as they were not in large circulation, was from museums and collectors. And not an everyday weapons shop would just have them.

That meant going to Texas. There were a _lot_ of guns in Texas. Some things never change.

After docking the _Hidden Enterprise_ in a public space dock I took a shuttle that I rented, with Aleria as a pilot, down to a place about an hour outside of Houston. Then I told her to go and explore, being her first time on Earth, so long as she got the two shuttles. She gave a squeal then took off with a promise to be back whenever I called for her.

That left me with a young turian who wanted to stay with me and the rest of the crew on two days' shore leave. I had no idea what to expect for them on Earth but I told them to be careful and to stay in pairs, just in case. I hadn't been around the galaxy for very long but I had a feeling that a random turian walking around Earth might lead to problems at the least, considering the First Contact War.

Torrin and I walked down the clean street before we made it to the building that I was aiming for; T'REX'S HISTORICAL MUNITIONS with a small image of a T-Rex holding what looked like two AK-47s. Charming. It was an old redbrick building, maybe three stories high and long enough to be holding enough stock to arm a decent size militia, assuming they actually had it fully stocked.

"I thought you bought guns on the Citadel before you came out here? Torrin asked, looking up at the business.

I nodded, not looking at him. "I did, but there are a few things here from the old days that there is just no replicating with eezo tech," I replied easily. "Come on, I'll show you."

I lead him inside. The building was actually a lot nicer than I gave it credit for on the outside. It almost looked like a mix between a museum and an art gallery for guns. There were guns from all modern eras that I could see, the oldest one was a musket behind a glass case with a grill to prevent it from being stolen. The store part seemed to only cover about a third of the total ground floor, with doors leading off toward the back section. One of the doors was open and I could see a large howitzer artillery piece standing proudly in the next room. There were maybe eight customers walking casually around the store, mostly older people but there were a couple of guys around my age that were walking around making noises that sounded awestruck. I am pretty sure that I heard one of them say something along the lines of the 'this old tech really stands up!' but I may have been mistaken. I guess there is a retro crowd for every appliance and not just gaming.

I led Torrin up to the front desk to find it empty to staff. I looked around and saw a buzzer with a small sign saying 'press for service', so I pressed it. A chime went off in the back of the store. A moment later a short chubby man walked out of the back room and came over to the desk. I saw his eye twitch a little as he stared at Torrin but he hid it with a big smile.

"Greetings good sirs," the man said loudly in an America southern drawl, the name Trey embroidered on the front of a surprisingly clean shirt. "Welcome to T-Rex's Munitions. How can I help you today?"

"Hello," I said politely, ignoring the momentary twitch he had sent to Torrin. The turian was used to weird looks and the guy hadn't actually said anything wrong to him yet. "My name is Brock Neilson. I sent a message a couple of days ago asking about some of your older weapons."

The man frowned thoughtfully as he tried to remember. "Neilson, Neilson… one second." He opened up a holographic terminal on his desk and started scrolling through some information that I couldn't read from where I was standing. "Ah, here we go." He took a look at my message and gave an appreciative whistle. "Oh yeah, I remember now." He gave a chortle. "You have a good eye for some great old human guns. Follow me."

He led the way out the back into what I assume was the warehouse section. There were massive cannons from all ages precisely lined up on either side of the walkway. I could appreciate some of the hardware, having been to a few military museums. Torrin looked around gaping at the giant guns, his mandible hanging loose.

"You seem surprised, Torrin," I said to him, feeling a little amused at his expression.

"I didn't realise that humans had these kinds of weapons," he exclaimed. "Most turians think that anything human made is second class but I think most of them would be afraid to face this kind of firepower."

That earned a bark of laughter from Trey. "Yeah, we humans have definitely had our fair share of experience when it comes to killing with big guns," he said, not looking around as he continued to lead the way. "That's the only reason some of our weapons manufacturers now can compete with the likes of Elkoss Combine."

Torrin nodded but didn't say anything as we came into a smaller room near the back of the ground floor. Trey hit a bunch of numbers in the keypad and the door clicked and opened. We entered a room smaller than my quarters on the _Enterprise_ but every wall was lined with guns locked behind solid steel grills.

Immediately my eyes locked on to the two weapons that I was interested in. For some reason they had already been pulled out and were sitting on the workbench.

"I pulled them out the moment that you said you were coming," Trey explained as he saw my quizzical expression. "I figured you wanted to be able to hold them up close."

I nodded and moved over to the AA-12. It had a standard clip magazine instead of a drum already loaded. "No drum?" I asked.

Trey grinned while Torrin just looked confused. "I see that you're a man after my own heart," Trey chuckled as he reached under the work bench to pull out three drums. "I have here the twenty-four shot, the thirty-six shot and a forty-four shot drum magazine."

I looked at him and raised an eyebrow in surprise. "I didn't know that they had a forty-four shot drum."

He shrugged. "Most people don't," he explained. "It was done as a mock-up for the military when Atchisson Assault was trying to convince the US Army to switch to the AA as its primary weapon. There were only a few hundred forty-fours created. I found this little piece at an auction for a deceased member of the old NRA."

"I'm sorry," Torrin interrupted as he looked at the gun in my hands. "What's so good about this gun?"

Trey looked at him disdainfully. "This gun here is arguably the best anti-personnel weapon that humans have ever made, both before and after mass effect technology was discovered. This is a fully automatic shotgun capable of using any number of rounds from small high-explosive rounds to standard shotgun rounds and even non-lethal beanbags. The versatility meant that it could be used for any number of scenarios and it could fire in nearly every weather condition perfectly. Only the AK-47 would arguably be better suited for that, and that gun didn't have the different bullet option that this gun has. I once saw a video of a guy cleaning this little beauty with a shoelace in the middle of a sandstorm and having it shoot perfectly after. The anti-recoil system meant you could shoot a shotgun round accurately with one hand at a target three hundred yards away at a rate of three hundred rounds per minute."

Trey hovered his hands near-reverentially over the weapon as I held it. "The only reason this didn't become standard, I believe, was because of politics. This little beauty is a later model of the same weapon but it fires just as good. You can tell the difference because the replica has the manual firing options of auto and semi auto on the switch here while the original didn't." He fixed Torrin with a glare. "I would like to see any of your fancy turian shotguns shoot like this beast. The only thing that modern guns have over this is the lack of need to carry spare ammunition. Only getting on or two shots out of a shotgun before you have to wait for it to cool makes it almost not worth having, especially with the effective range being only the same as a standard heavy pistol."

Torrin stared in open fascination at the gun I was now holding. "It's that good?"

I nodded. "That's one of the only reasons I am coming back to Earth," I said. "That and this little toy right here." I carefully put the AA down and picked up the Thumper.

"Damn you have a good eye for a weapon, son," Trey chuckled. "M79 Thumper. Made for the Vietnam War back in the 1960s. About as good a grenade launcher as any human could hope for. Sure, the M320 was a good little piece but it just didn't have the feel and the shorter barrel meant it was less accurate at any range more than a hundred metres. Anything from hi-ex to non-lethal, this thing was even able to be used as a blunderbuss. Kind of an old-fashioned shotgun," he explained at Torrin's confused expression. "The only downside was the single shot system. Sure, the Milkor MGL and the RG-6 were both good options but they just didn't have the same statement as the M79, not to mention they were both harder to clean and maintain than the single shot launcher. The only thing that really could be unarguably better than this launcher was the belt-fed, fully automatic launchers like the M-75. But that wasn't as transportable as this gun was. The RPG-7 was more common but it was highly inaccurate. All models of the RPG up until the last one, the model 35 back in 2135, had the exact same issue. Basically any grenade launcher after 2043 became a more complicated mess as designers tried to do trickier and trickier things with it. Oh sure, having the grenades be programmable is a great idea but then it just starts to blow the costs out. For simplicity, ease of use and ease of maintenance, this launcher would be hard to beat, even today with the M-100. Hell, that gun is really just a modern attempt of the M79."

Torrin looked suitably impressed at the weapons in front of him. I had to hand it to Trey though, he knew his stuff. Having that kind of off-the-top-of-your-head knowledge was only really found by someone who was passionate about their subject of interest.

"There you go, Torrin," I said, giving the young turian a tight grin. "If you ever want to learn about weapons, go to a collector. They will tell you everything you want to know."

"Ha!" the Texan barked cheerfully. "That's about the best advice you could ever give anyone, son. Ain't that the truth!"

I nodded and looked back at him. "Now, ammo for the AA."

We went through the various options for what he had in stock. There was some variety but not many rounds of each on in store, mainly because there were not many people that made gunpowder based ammo anymore.

"It can be done," Trey assured me. "You just gotta be patient and make sure you find the right person. Don't want no fake imitators now. But the rounds would be even better than those of the early 21st century. Bullets became a lot better around the mid-21st as gun manufacturers tried to fight against them prothean designed guns. Made them bullets and explosives a lot more powerful in a smaller size."

The final gun that I wanted, and if only for modification purposes, was only going to be good for a krogan, assuming Jurt could be trusted. A minigun. A rotating six-barrelled lawnmower. No one else would have the strength to hold it without a full body harness and the ammunition would run out far too quick for it to be practical, so I wanted to hire a gunsmith asap and have them take a look at this little beast. Hopefully I would be able to get it to work the way I envisioned it.

I organised for my purchases to be delivered to the _Hidden Enterprise_ instead of me carrying them myself. Apparently, there were now stricter gun carry laws here and I didn't have a permit for them. I was helpfully told that the Citadel clearances that I had applied for would be considered appropriate approval for carrying weapons anywhere in Alliance space, unless local laws were restrictive. So basically anywhere in the United States were happy to go with the Citadel standards while places like England had tougher stances on open carrying weapons. Some things never change, I guess.

"Y'all come back anytime now, ya hear," Trey called as he waved us out the door. "And tell your friends about us!"

We waved back and I felt satisfied knowing that my purchases would be on the ship by the time I arrived back.

…

The next stop that Torrin and I went to was in Germany. The shuttle took us there in less than an hour, which was amazing. I had flown in airplanes before and it took longer than an hour for me to even leave my home state. This was literally leaving one country and crossing an ocean and I still managed to get there faster. Because it was still technically faster than the sound barrier the shuttle wouldn't do it in atmosphere because the sonic shockwave would be too disruptive for people on the ground. What basically happened was the shuttle went straight up above the atmospheric barrier and accelerated as fast as it wanted before returning just above the destination, where it re-entered with only a slight raise in internal temperature, thanks to the mass effect technology. I have to say, I could handle travelling the world if I could do it that fast.

We landed at in front of a market area that was relatively busy. I could see that it was nearly completely human, though there were a couple of asari and a salarian in a business suit walking around. Hopefully me having Torrin wouldn't be too out of place then.

I walked up to a quiet looking café that I had organised to meet my next prospective crewmember.

I found a table and took a seat, opening a menu to take a look at drink options. A tall, young woman with a pinched face came over and took my order for a carbonated water. I was in the transition stage to taking on sugary drinks. Carbonated water certainly was not a sugary drink but I was taking it as a next step.

Didn't make it any tastier though.

Torrin was drinking some form of drink that smelled like hot chocolate that had been made with sour milk. It was one of the reasons that this café had been selected; it had dextro drinks on offer.

"How is it?" I asked him, curious.

He gave a very human shrug. "Too sweet. Yours?"

I gave him a dry smile. "Not sweet enough. For the better though."

Right on the hour a man approached the table. It was a short man, only about five foot eight or nine. He had dark hair, olive skin and facial features that suggested Asian but not completely. Going by his appearance alone I would have said he was about mid forties but he was in excellent physical shape. Considering why I was meeting him it was a good thing too. He had an air about his that basically screamed 'military'. Most importantly, he was exactly the same person that I had talked to over video call three days ago.

"Brock Neilson?" he asked, coming to a sharp stop right in front of the table.

I nodded. "Mr B. Clarke?"

He gave a respectful nod. "Yes, Beau Clarke. Former N6 Destroyer, retired."

"So, after our earlier conversation, you know what I want?" I asked, gesturing for him to take a seat.

"Yes," he replied easily as he sat in the indicated chair. "You want me to train you, your friend here," he gestured to Torrin, "and anyone else on your crew that needs it to be able to fight at special forces level, so you hired me, a former N6. What I haven't heard from you is 'why?'"

I gave him a tight smile. "First, I want to know a few things. Don't you miss the military? I mean, some small part of you has to miss it for you to even bother replying to the job application, hoping that there might be a sniff of real action if you are training someone for it. Or is the work you are doing running fitness classes the pinnacle of where you want to be right now?"

He gave me a dry look as Torrin shifted slightly in his seat. The young turian was staying quiet for the interview, just as I asked him. He was a good kid, really.

"Of course I miss it," Beau said. "There is a camaraderie, a brotherhood, that I miss every day. My friends who I fought with, are with, bled with. Many of them are gone, doing who knows what. I am teaching gym classes to rich people bored out of their minds and no idea of how to use their money. If I was happy with that life, I would never have applied for this one." He sat back in his chair and fixed a stare at me. "Your turn."

I looked at him steadily. "You told me in our earlier conversation that you fought during the Skyllian Blitz. You encountered many batarians and mercs seeking slaves. You then fought at Torfan, even if you won't say what your role is due to confidentiality. Which is fine, I will let you keep your silence over operational matters. But what was your opinion of the state of the slavers, slaves and the Hegemony situation there?"

He looked at me, his expression in a trained neutral position. "I saw the slavers doing unimaginable things to their slaves," he said after a long pause. "I saw the degradation that those poor souls had suffered as we took them from their hovels and brought them back to any form of civilisation. And seeing that, I knew that what we were doing is right. And there are far more worlds in Hegemony space and the Terminus systems where that is still going on."

"So why didn't you go into the merc life? Or private security to try and go against them?"

He snorted. "Mercs are just money chasers. They don't have a moral compass that isn't directly linked to their bank account. Anyone joins up with them and they better be real happy killing civilians or taking slaves. And I am not. As for private security, I did consider ERCS as an option but there was something about them that just didn't rub right in the interview. None of the others seemed any better. I had almost given up until I saw your ad for a trainer."

I nodded slowly. "Well," I said, keeping my voice casual. "As it just so happens I have made a few promises to my crew members. Like Torrin here, who has lost friends to slavers. And my krogan, who lost someone important to slavers. I promised them I would help them get even. I can get the weapons and even get information, but I need actual training. I am running on a clock here though, so I need the training to be damn effective and able to push me for all I am worth. Because we are going to be taking a few slaves back, when all is said and done. And after that, there is more work to do, if you choose to stick around that long."

A glint came into Beau's eye as a spoke. "You're saying that you are going to give me the chance to do a little bit more of what I did on Torfan?" he asked bluntly. "Kill slavers and free slaves from the hell they are trapped in? Because you made promises to your crew?"

I looked to the side in a mock thoughtful pose. "Yep," I confirmed. "Well, technically I am just hiring you to train me, Torrin and whoever else is going to be doing it. I guess you can join the fun if you want. Why? You got something better to do?"

He gave me a sly and admittedly somewhat creepy smile. "Not anymore. Be ready, because I am going to show you how to train like a marine."

I shook my head. "No. Better."

…

I felt a little conflicted as I looked at the time on my omni-tool. I had one more thing that I felt I needed to do but I didn't want any witnesses for this one. I called Aleria to come pick up Torrin so that they could head off together and I would be able to make my next trip alone.

"I don't like it," Torrin objected immediately once I told him. "I don't know anything to do here. What am I supposed to do with Aleria for the next however many hours?"

I gave him a small smile. "Have you ever heard of Disneyland?"

…

The shuttle touched down and I climbed out, immediately feeling the strong sea breeze blowing into me. The smell of the salt water was as refreshing as it was intoxicating. I couldn't remember exactly how long it had been since I had been able to smell the beach from home. Damn I had missed it.

I had taken the shuttle to Western Australia for two purposes. The first was more benign; I was there to see the beaches from home, to try and see how different things there were and to enjoy it before I threw myself into the work of trying to stop the reapers. Maybe it was a small pointless self-indulgence but it was something that I wanted to do. One of the things I had loved to do with Jason the most was walk along the beach and play in the waves but even before then I had loved the ocean.

The other reason was for my morbid sense of curiosity. I just wanted to know what had become of my old home. As in, the house I had lived in, where my son and I had tried to be happy with a woman who, for whatever reason, couldn't love us.

I walked for a good few minutes away from the coast. I was surprised to find that there were more krogan here than any other race. Though it may have been a sign nearby that read 'Crocodile Wrestling: see how you match up to one of Earth's most patient killers!' that was on display outside of a building close to the beach.

I finally arrived at my destination, only to feel nonplussed. I looked at the area again and frowned.

It turns out my home was an Indian restaurant here. I am not sure what I expected really. I mean, this is an entirely different universe, no matter how similar it seemed. Not only that but it had also gone through an extra one hundred and seventy years' worth of history that I had never seen or known about. Even in my own universe anything could have happened to my house during that time.

Still I couldn't help feeling just a tiny amount of displacement, knowing that this place, while so similar to my home, wasn't actually my home. I shook the feeling off and headed back to the beach. I wasn't here to have a chicken tikka masala.

After thirty five minutes of walking I finally crested a hill, feeling happy that this universe's Australia had also kept the sand dunes close to the beach intact. I was never really a fan of the skyrise apartments right on the beach. I know some people like it but I just liked the natural look a little better.

The beach itself was only lightly populated. Seeing as it was late winter in the southern hemisphere I was actually surprised to see the few dozen people and aliens that were walking along the sand. There were no turians or salarians in sight, only a few asari and krogan scattered among the locals, some of whom were walking dogs. Aside from the aliens, it was a scene that I had seen frequently back in my universe. It was yet another reminder that although this looked so much like my home, it really wasn't.

I moved along until I found a spot far away from any of the other beach goers and sat down, looking out at the ways crashing onto the sand. The wind was starting to come in now and it was bringing a cold sea breeze in the mild winter air. The sky was cloudy but not raining. Standard winter for Australia.

I just sat there, thinking about what I was doing, letting it all just run through my mind. The future was going to come, whether people believed it or not; whether I did anything or not. My crew were likely to end up dying if I did nothing. They could go hide on a hidden world somewhere but that was no guarantees. Considering the reapers had been doing this for about a billion years I doubted that there were many planets they didn't know about. It struck me as to why I was even doing this. Why was I putting my life on the line for a place that wasn't my home; that wasn't even my universe. I was about as alien to this planet as any creature was ever likely to get. This world, which I only knew from a video game.

 _Just because it isn't really your home, doesn't mean that it can't be_ , a familiar voice broke into my thoughts.

I ignored it and just stared out at the blue/grey water pulsing with the tide. The things I saw changed drastically. I saw reapers flying over the water, heading north towards the cities. I looked in that direction and saw smoke, fire and destruction that marked the fighting. Screams sounded in my ears as children tried to outrun the terrors that eventually silenced them. I could almost smell the death on the air. It was a shadow of the terrors that this world would be facing.

I shook the visions out of my head and sent a glare towards the clouds above me. _Cut it out, Manuel._

The images and sounds fully faded and the world returned to normal. _It's not just about you_ , the voice returned. _The life these people live, it could be yours. You could find peace and happiness here. But you need to save them first. This could be your home and it could be far happier than the one you left behind_. _All you need to do, is let it. Get over the fact that this is from a game. It is no game to these people on the beach, on the planet or in the galaxy. This is as real to them as playing on the beach with Jason was for you. You have been doing well. Keep going._

I thought about it for a long moment. Then I heard heavy footsteps crunching through the sand and I turned to see Jurt making his way towards me, still wearing his armour. No one said anything, but I did see a few people giving him weird looks.

"Neilson," he grunted in greeting.

"Jurt," I replied, looking up at him. "What you doing here?"

"Admiring the scenery," he said, looking out at a krogan child standing at the water's edge a hundred meters further down the beach.

I stared at him for a long moment. "Aleria asked you to follow me, didn't she?"

He grunted again. "It wasn't so much as asking as it was telling but yeah." He sat down heavily next to me, sinking a little further into the sand. He stared out at the water longingly.

I looked at him thoughtfully, wondering why he would have obeyed Aleria. "So why'd you listen to her?" I asked eventually, unable to figure it out.

He shrugged. "I heard you were coming down here to Australia. I heard things from people about your animals being deadly here. To a krogan that is more of a challenge than anything."

I couldn't help chuckling. "Well, there are bigger predators elsewhere on the planet. Maybe you should have gone to America to wrestle a grizzly bear. Down here in Australia, we go for poisons more than anything else. Except for crocodiles and sharks of course."

He looked at me, his brow furrowed in confusion. "I know what crocodiles are but what are sharks?"

I gestured out to the water where we could see a few dedicated surfers paddling, waiting for the next set to come in. "Sharks live in the water. That's their domain. Fast enough to catch any human swimmer, large enough jaws to bite people in half in one go. They can come right into the shore if they want to. The smell of blood attracts them from miles away. People get attacked all the time from them here. Up north there is even a place called Shark Bay. People don't even bother to swim there. Just not safe enough. Some of the Great Whites are up to six meters or so long and can knock over small boats without trying. Bull sharks are even larger but a little less aggressive. They have rows of teeth that make your smile look like a grin from an asari dancer." I stretched out my legs a little as I leaned back in the sand. "Other places have them too, obviously, but for some reason they seem to like attacking the people that swim the beaches here."

Jurt stared back at the water, his expression now hungry. "Sounds like they would be a decent challenge," he growled softly, almost to himself.

I laughed louder now. "Maybe, but I reckon you should stick to croc wrestling," I grinned. "At least until you find a better way to make krogan swim."

He gave a deep chuckle of his own. "True," he admitted. "I would rather face a thresher maw on land on Tuchanka than I would face something that could bite through my armour in the water."

I gave a small smile as I turned back to look at the waves. "Ain't that the truth. Still, regardless of the dangers, most people here live closer to the oceans. There are that many spiders, snakes, jellyfish, octopi and other bugs that can kill a human here that the remote chances of being killed by a shark are practically a luxury. That being said, I think you are still more likely to die from an air conditioning unit falling on your head in New York than being killed by an animal here. Or a gang member in California. Ain't no antivenoms for bullets."

He gave a grunt of amusement. "At least you humans don't try pretend the dangers aren't there. Of all the squishies, I think humans are better suited at facing off against their natural predators. Damn pyjacks." He said the last part with a wide krogan grin.

"Watch it, krogan," I warned him good naturedly. "We pyjacks have some pride." I stood up and brushed the sand off me. "Come on, let's go head off and get some lunch. See if we can find you some pyjack to eat. I think I would love to see you choke on it."

"Ha!"

 **…**

 **A/N Please Review/Follow/Favourite as you please. See you next chapter!**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N I own nothing**

 **Hello loyal readers! Yes I am back. Thank you for your patience. Exams are over and this chapter took a little while to write. I had a little writer's block as I figured out how I want to proceed to the next part. I got this to where I was happy enough with it, now I just hope that it is enough to wet your appetites for the next chapter, which I have already started writing. So stay tuned for that!**

 **Comments:**

 **Sornosquinfallen, Archangel319, scorpin17, MajorKO, Xenozip, Guest 2 – thank you all. Every review makes it easier to keep writing.**

 **Jdude281, frankieu – haha no I don't think that we will get to see a krogan/great white shark deathmatch in this story. But we can dream!**

 **DahakStaz, dekuton, Artyom-Dreizehn – yeah I tried to factor in the weight of body armour as it currently exists, put that into a full body suits and make room for bonus accessories and come up with a figure for the hardsuits. I admit that I took a few liberties, seeing as I allowed for the change in perceived weight once gene mods were given to the wearer. So the final number was partially pulled out of my head. And A-D, the suits are a little like power armour but not much. It is certainly no Halo armour. As for the guns, there are a couple of ways that I have thought of for how it would work. We will see which way ends up supreme.**

 **Kivdon – thank you for your correction. I will try to avoid that mistake in the future.**

 **Jotun – sounds interesting. I took a look and might incorporate that but for now I will stick to what I have in mind.**

 **MagicznyGosc – thank you for your input there. I don't want to go too much into detail but there are some things that you put out that will factor into the story while other won't. And some will but slightly different for how you suggested. As for the Raloi, I thought about them but from what I read, they approached the asari first and there is no information given on the location of their homeworld, only that they retreated there when the reapers attacked. As for the Virtual race, they just rocked up in salarian space. No idea how to find them.**

 **Guest 1 – ok, I will accept that. I have actually been a little concerned for a couple of chapters now that I might be going back to the torture of the MC too much and it prevents the story from moving forward. Looks like I was at least a little right. Now I won't feel bad for skipping it.**

 **Now, on to the story!**

…

 **CHAPTER 15 - PROGRESSION**

I looked around the bright white space I found myself in. there was nothing here at all. I was almost like I was in a white room without walls, windows or a visible floor. Seeing as the last thing I remembered was falling asleep, I had the feeling that I was about to get a visit from an old… well friend might be pushing it, but acquaintance might not be too far a stretch.

"Hello Brock," a familiar voice said behind me. I turned casually and saw that I was right. Manuel was standing there in his glowing white robes. "You're looking well."

I shrugged. "I've been worse," I replied.

He gave a knowing smile that still maintained the kindness that I remembered from our last face-to-face conversation. "That you have," he agreed.

I looked around at the blank white space I found myself in. if it wasn't for the fact that I could feel the floor beneath feet I wouldn't have even known that there was one. "So to what do I owe the pleasure?" I asked, looking back at him. "I take it this isn't merely a social call."

He gave a vague smile and nodded once again. "Indeed. I came to tell you that time is starting to work against you."

I looked at him, feeling a tightness in my chest. "Are you saying that I am not going to be able to accomplish the things I intended to achieve?"

"No, I am not saying that at all," he reassured me. "Just that you need to think about putting some of your plans in to place earlier than you are currently going to."

I sat and thought about it. He was right. I need to get things done quicker. I cursed myself in that moment as I realised that I could have gone out and discovered every single asteroid _before_ I planned to sell them. It would have saved a lot of time that I am now going to be dragging my feet with unless I start trusting other people to do things for me. That was where I was going to have trouble. I don't know anyone here. I don't trust anyone here. Maybe if I had more time then I could have worked things faster.

"I'm guessing that sending me back to the start and having me do this from a year earlier would be out of the question?" I said sarcastically.

He gave me a wry smile. "Afraid so. I can give you a little help but it will mostly be in the way of providing information. Even doing something as simple as helping protect your mind from a forced meld was considered borderline too much. They are going to let it stay but that is likely the extent of physical assistance."

I huffed a sigh. "Well, it's better than nothing I guess," I grumbled. I thought of some of the questions that had come to mind that I had wanted to ask. "I do want to know, how much of the DLC missions are actually here?"

"Oh, all of it happens," he replied.

Hmmm… that was only slightly problematic. I had done some of the DLC missions but not all of them. I had read about them during my research for ideas but I had never actually done the Project Overlord mission, nor the Shadow Broker mission. I knew about them when I thought about what I wanted to do so I knew where to find the Shadow Broker's ship in Hagalaz but knowing it and playing it are different things. Likewise, I knew the end of the Overlord DLC but not all the steps in between. Still, seeing as I wasn't planning on going with Shepard at that point, it meant that I didn't really need to know anything other than the ending anyway. I only knew about the mission to save Javik from Cerberus from YouTube videos and the ME wikia. I didn't see him as a key player in my plans so I hadn't actually worried about it very much though I do suppose he could be useful, if only to prove my point of the reapers actually existing.

"Ok," I said slowly. "What about these asteroids? Are there going to be any 'surprises' at any of their locations?"

He gave me a little smile. "There will be at one of them," he replied.

"Which one?"

He clicked his fingers. "That one." The information suddenly sprouted in my mind. I nodded.

"Great. Now, do you know of a space dock that I could nab for my own personal use? I don't want the various governments to be involved too much."

"Don't trust the governments?" he asked innocently.

I snorted. "You know I don't," I said.

"Fair enough," he said, his face turning thoughtful. "There are a few options. You could buy one second hand from a corporation for a lot of money, the volus are selling. You could grab one from the Terminus, though you aren't really geared up for ship to ship combat yet. There is also the elcor who are shutting down some of their local ship productions but you need to be quick. Other people are hunting that one and you might need some help with moving controls but that might be your cheapest option."

"Ok so I have a few options, is what you are saying," I said evenly. Good to know. I was gonna need it.

"Yes you do," he confirmed. "So, unless there are any other questions, you need to get back out there. Do you know where you are headed first?"

I nodded.

"Good. Back to it then."

And the white faded away back to reality.

…

Aleria stood on the catwalk high above the cargo bay, staring down as she waited for her call up. Below her, Beau was yelling out instructions and a small group consisting of Brock, Torrin, and surprisingly Hectar, ran about to follow them. Torrin was the fastest of the three, using his natural turian physical prowess to move faster than the others. Brock, who had several gene mods finally put in a few weeks ago, was only a few steps behind the young turian with Hectar bringing up the rear. They had been going for the last two hours together with Beau, with Brock and Torrin starting about two hours before that. The previous four weeks had been consistent fifteen hour days of running, drills, obstacle courses and weapon maintenance as Beau took his recruits and pushed them for all they were worth. Every single employee, Aleria included, had taken part in some of the training to measure their fitness levels and give them the option to participate in future ground work. Most of the crew only went a few times, like Chop, Carlos and the three new members, before deciding that ground work was not their calling and they were happy to stay on the ship. Jurt went irregularly on a 'when he felt like it' basis and Liserias would go for a few hours exercise in the morning before returning to the medical centre to get things ready for dealing with mostly quarian needs. She didn't really have a whole lot to do, though judging by how hard these four were training, that was liable to change in the near future.

Aleria had also been down several times to 'assist' in their training. Such assistance always came in the form of her throwing biotic lifts at the participants as they ran through obstacle courses. Apparently Beau thought it was a great way for them to experience dodging biotic attacks and explosive obstacles in a simulated environment. She grudgingly had to admit that Beau probably knew what he was talking about. During the first couples of times she had been doing it all three of the men, and even Ely who had joined in for an hour, had been caught nearly every time she threw a biotic lift at them. It had given the spectators a few laughs few a while. Ever since then though there had been steady consistent improvement. Now Brock was able to avoid nearly every single attack. Hectar, probably due to his typical skittish nature, was also able to dodge most of the biotic spheres. For some reason, Torrin was having more difficulty being aware of his surroundings; surprising for a former duct rat. As a result he was only able to get out of the way about half the time.

She wasn't the only watching, she knew. Brock had picked up a few new employees since they had left Earth. An asari named Nelathie who was a weapons designer on the capital ship side, and an old turian who was named Horaxes who had taken over the role of armourer and weapon smith with a zeal that was endearing. Weapons to him was not so much a tool but an art form that he took pride in. Brock had immediately stationed them on the lower crew deck at the front of the ship and had made their living and work areas restricted access to any except for himself, the new crew members and Hectar and Ely. He had offered Aleria access too but she had politely refused, saying that there was no reason for her to have access to those areas while the quarians would be good to run numbers with them.

He had also taken on another quarian pilgrim by the name of Misol'Tola nar Blopot that had been searching for work on the Citadel but was unsuccessful until Brock came along. Aleria had been keeping an eye on her to make sure that she didn't try anything like Sel'Hara had but so far she had checked out. Currently she could see Misol and Horaxes in the cargo bay below her watching the exercises.

Footsteps on the metal catwalk broke her out of her thoughts and she turned to see Ely walking towards her. She gave a small smile as a hello and received a nod in return. Aleria had become friends with the quarian girl over the last few weeks. It turned out that she had a playful sense of humour and seemed to take great job in playing pranks on Carlos as retaliation for his… unappreciated staring. The girl had come a long way from the shy pilgrim that had been picked up at the start of their journey. Now she was a confident worker on a spaceship with the best luck in the galaxy.

"Hey Aleria," Ely said casually. "I thought I might find you here."

Aleria nodded. "I am expecting to be called back to go and assist with their training, or to help Torrin with his biotics again."

Ely nodded and turned back to look at the activities below. The shared a companionable silence for a few minutes.

"Keelah," Ely said breaking the silence. "Don't you think that Brock is pushing himself too hard?"

Aleria frowned. She had noticed that no matter how exhausted Brock seemed or how long he had been training with Beau, he never stopped throwing everything he had into the physical activities, or stripping a weapon over and over again. The man was almost overzealous in his efforts to improve both his physical state and his ability to soldier on. It was clear that he was obsessive but he never once complained about it. She had been worried for a little while with how serious he was taking this but thought that she might be the only one. Not even Torrin pushed himself as hard as Brock did. It made her feel privately concerned.

"Maybe," she replied after a few moments. "But he hasn't said anything against it and he gets checked out by Liserias after every training session to make sure that he didn't damage anything so I am sure that if he went too far he would know he had to stop." It wouldn't do to have the young quarian worrying about it, even if Aleria wasn't entirely convinced herself.

Ely didn't say anything for a moment as she cocked her head and thought about it. "I just don't know _why_ he is pushing himself so hard."

Aleria couldn't help giving her friend a sly smile. "Why so concerned Ely?" she teased. "Do you feel like he might be someone you have feeling for? Should I be worried?"

Ely jerked upright. "Wha… No! I mean he is a nice… but I don't…" she stopped when she saw Aleria was giggling. "Aleria, don't do that!" she cried. "Keelah! If I wanted to be around bosh'tets I would go back to work with Carlos."

"I know, I am sorry," Aleria couldn't help grinning. "I was only playing around."

"I know but still, it was mean," Ely said, he voice sounding like she was pouting. "And no, I don't feel that way towards him." She fidgeted slightly. "I don't really find humans attractive."

"Your loss," Aleria said lightly.

A bang from below them made them both look down, feeling startled. Aleria's alarm passed quickly as it seemed that the four of them, trainer and trainees, were now throwing cargo crates and doing sprints as part of their training.

"Maybe you would be more interested in Torrin?" Aleria suggested playfully, look back at Ely.

"Aleria, don't do that!" Ely whined, rubbing her arm in embarrassment. "Besides, he is too young!"

"Maybe he is now but he won't be later on," Aleria replied slyly.

The two girls continued their playful banter, the group below them oblivious to their presence.

…

I took a deep breath and looked around the room. This was going to be one hell of an interesting meeting to begin with; I knew that straight away.

It had been five weeks since I had left Earth. Quite a few things had happened since we had left there as I tried to follow Manuel's advice and push through some of the plans a bit faster. Ely had finally found another _kirik-_ class freighter and an asari _matriarch-_ class heavy freight transport that would suit our needs. They had been in the Citadel public dock in the Widow system when we arrived back at the Citadel so I had been able to go see them straight away. Both had been in excellent condition and I had purchased them straight away, getting a discount for fast purchase. I had immediately sent the asari ship to long term docking as I had no idea how long it would be before I had the crew to man the ship. The _kirik_ -class ship I had sent to the salarian shipyards at Mannovai to have two ultra-violet GARDIAN lasers installed, one on the top and another on the bottom. The salarians were not overly fond of selling highly advanced technology like that cheaply and it had been a cool two and a half billion credits apiece for the lasers. The ship would be back in a month, escorted by the salarian defence company that were installing it. I doubted that it would really take that long but I had the feeling that despite the money I had spent, my importance was somewhat near the bottom.

While on the Citadel I had also picked up my three new crew members. Ely and Hectar, mostly Hectar, had taken a new zeal in their background checks after Tevos had tried installing a plant. The three crew members, unknowingly, had had their entire lives dissected in an attempt to find out if they were genuine or if they would betray the team.

Horaxes had been an interesting find. I think it more likely that I had poached him from a company that he had become unhappy with. I had seen some of his work in a rather curious interview. He had actually brought in weapons cases to the interview to show me some of the prototypes that he had created that he had decided to not pass on to his former employer. On hiring him, the old turian had exclaimed 'bless your plates my boy' and gifted me a heavy pistol that he had made that he dubbed 'Foehammer'. It was almost like a mix between a quarian arc pistol and an M-6 Carnifex in appearance which I had taken the liberty of testing out in a firing range on the Citadel. It could fire up to twenty three heavy shots before it overheated or I could hold down the trigger for a charged shot that was almost a smaller version of a shotgun blast, with recoil to match. It could fire four charged blasts consecutively before I needed to let it cool. The grip had been made with three fingers in mind but he promised that he would have it remoulded to my five fingered hand before I knew it. I had already started having him look at what he could do to convert the AA12 to mass effect tech. Horaxes had virtually lit up at the idea of a ultra-low recoil automatic shotgun. It was like seeing a turian version of Trey. We hadn't even started on the minigun or the M-79 yet but I was already looking forward to see what he could do to make them weaponised monsters. He was willing to talk it through with me and take a few of my suggestions on board as we thought of a way to make the weapons work to an acceptable standard. Watching him work was amazing; he seemed to come alive with energy in a way that made him seem as young as Torrin.

Nelathie was a very good find. She had been working for a private defence company that contracted out to the asari military for nearly thirty years; not Armali but a smaller one. I had been very careful with her, making sure that she wasn't a plant from Tevos, the shadow broker, another information broker, asari intelligence or any other interfering parties but she had come through with flying colours. Once I had hired her I had taken her into her new office on the _Hidden Enterprise_ and sat her down for a chat for what I wanted her to work on.

"I want you to work on a large scale orbital platform," I told the asari matron, looking directly into her dark blue face.

She had nodded, looking thoughtful. "How large are we talking?"

"What's the largest you think a MAC cannon can reasonably be made?" I responded.

She thought for a long minute. "I think it would easily be feasible to make an orbital platform with a firing yield of forty eight kilograms without too much difficulty. That's about what we hear the turians managed for their platforms over Palaven. Dreadnoughts only get about twenty five kilograms"

I nodded. "And what is the average speed of a MAC projectile?"

"About 13.5% the speed of light."

I nodded again, looking thoughtful but anticipating her reaction. "Thank you. To answer your earlier question, I want the orbital platforms to be able to launch a minimum of… oh, say… five hundred tons."

Her mouth dropped open and she stared at me in dumbfounded shock.

"Oh, and I want it to go at least at light speed," I finished, as casually as if I was talking about the weather. "Though faster would be better."

She continued to stare at me with a stupefied expression on her face, clearly unable to speak for a long moment.

Finally, I spoke up again, breaking the silence. "Come now, dear Nelathie, as much as I enjoy staring into the contents of your open mouth, I would prefer it if you were speaking first," I chided her mock playfully.

Her mouth finally snapped shut as she blushed in embarrassment. "What you want is not possible," she declared with blunt certainty.

I shrugged non-committally. "Do you know how much this ship weighs when the eezo engines are not activated?" I asked rhetorically. "One hundred and three thousand tons. It travels at more than eight light years per day." I raised an eyebrow at her. "Just because no one else has done it, does that mean it _can't_ be done, or just that no one thinks it is worth doing?"

Her face lost most of its disbelief and instead got a faraway look as she started to think things through.

"It may be possible," she murmured as she started to tap her chin. "With enough eezo, maybe a dedicated supply, separated from the other systems… expensive, certainly, but maybe possible… would need to alter power flow through reactive coils and change it to run through the firing chamber instead of an engine." Her eyes refocussed as looked back at me. "Yes, I think it should be possible to run the numbers. I could even create a simulator but the price to build one would probably be worth buying four or five of the turian platforms, at a conservative guess, as well as being grossly overpowered."

"And how long would it be before you could get the numbers crunched and completed on a project like this?" I asked.

She thought for a moment. "As a completely new design with unknown numbers instead of starting with a known base figure… maybe ten weeks to get everything done and have the simulator programmed too."

"Wonderful!" I exclaimed cheerfully. "I want you to work out the calculations within the next three weeks and have the simulator ready two weeks after that."

Her eyes bulged out. "You want that in five weeks?" she almost yelled at me. "That sort of calculation and engineering is three or four days of checks just for safety. A project like this would be a minimum of eight weeks with a small team."

I waved a hand dismissively. "Ask Ely or Hectar to help you run the numbers if you need it. But I want the completed calculations set done with in five weeks at the very latest. If you get it done faster than that I will give you a bonus of a hundred thousand credits for every day short of that five week time."

Her eyes widened at that and she basically forced me out of her room to start working immediately. Good thing too, she had got it all done in just four weeks and one day, happily accepting the six hundred thousand credit bonus. She was already working on the engine systems such a platform would need to stay in orbit. She assured me that this part wouldn't take anywhere near as long as there was already existing schematics that she could basically copy from the existing orbital weapons platforms in use by the various races out there. The most work would come from trying to calculate shot compensation so that firing the orbital MAC wouldn't knock it out of orbit.

Hiring Misol had been much more straightforward. She had been on her Pilgrimage for three months and had been unable to find decent paying work as a maintenance technician that wasn't likely to be a suicidal job. I had Hectar and Ely run the usual background checks, not wanting a repeat of Sel, but everything had checked out. Still, no harm in being cautious.

It's not like I had been idle in my personal efforts either. When I had been on the Citadel the first time I had met directly with the elcorian ambassador Calyn. He was the same guy that shared an office with the grumpy volus ambassador. I guess not too many people made direct appointments to see either of them because I got one the same day that I called to ask. I had confidently walked into the office and asked how much the elcor were asking for the space dock. He had wanted a cool three hundred billion credits, which was about two thirds of my remaining credits, meaning it was lucky for me that I was in the process of getting more asteroids to sell. I told him that I would pay for that on the spot as long as they were the ones to reconfigure the controls and terminals for standard use so that any three or five fingered hands could use it. I left there not an hour later as the satisfied owner of a space dock and a promise to move it to a location of my choice once it had finished being retrofitted. Apparently, there had been quite a bit of practice in altering elcor controls for standard use so that meant that the whole process could be finished in a little over a month. Seeing as the facility was large enough to fully house ten cruiser sized freighters as well as complete repairs and even be use for construction work on it without remodelling, I was highly impressed. The thing was in all reality a small shipyard. It looked like a giant donut with foldable prong arms that would stick out for ships to dock in. The centre hole was half a kilometre in diameter and was where the construction equipment could be utilised, which was good. I hoped to start construction as soon as I found a hidden place to park it. The elcor ambassador agreed to hold it until I took physical possession of it. He did mention that both Elkoss Combine and Armali Industries were likely to not be overly happy as they had approached him seeking the dock but neither had made noises about an offer, most likely in an attempt to drop the price. Well, snooze you lose because that little shipyard was mine now.

The orphanage was now up and running too. Malaea had taken to organising it with gusto and had made sure that the kids were able to move into it the moment it was ready. I was already hearing how Klara had started learning English from one of the tutors that had been hired to help the kids with their education and she was extremely dedicated, which made me feel a little proud. It was still early days so there were only about twelve kids who were staying at the orphanage all the time but there were another eight that would rock up randomly for meals before scurrying back out to the ducts where they obviously felt safe. I wasn't too worried though; I believed that the longer the orphanage went on, the more the word would spread and then more kids that would choose to live there instead of the gutter.

I had also decided to try and take on some of my personal problems head on. The memory of my freak out when I had played music to myself was stuck in my mind and I realised that it could be potentially damaging to me if I was to have another episode at a crucial time. Because of that, after I finished my work every day I would lock myself in my room and put music on, forcing myself to listen to it. At the beginning I was sitting there with my jaw clenched at the mildest music while I was gripping my bedding with white knuckles. I felt like I had lockjaw after that first night. I was only taking it easy too, listening to classical music at low volumes. Night after night I would repeat this and over the next few weeks things slowly improved as I got accustomed to listening music again. I got better with classical music and moved up to jazz, then modern 'pop' music, then rock 'n' roll, then heavy metal and finally RNB and hip-hop. As I went through each stage I would always start with low volume and move it up until I no longer felt comfortable. Then I waited until I slowly adjusted and increased the volume again until it was at nightclub volumes. After I got used to doing that with the lights on I switched the lights off and did it over again. It wasn't a pleasant experience but finally, after training myself that way for a month, I was no longer having reactions to music or the dark. They were not pleasant things for me but I could bare it without, in my own humble opinion, having any reaction at all, other than a twinge of annoyance. Considering that I was likely to need to go to places with loud music, it was unacceptable for me to be at a major disadvantage before we even began. I doubted that I would get back to the stage where I would enjoy music again but neutral feelings and reactions was better than having a freak out.

I was also doing some serious physical training, pushing myself hard to be combat ready for some of the missions I had planned coming. Once we left the Citadel three days after we arrived I had made Aleria pilot the ship through a serious of seemingly random locations that had happened to include two more of the eezo asteroids that I had been given by Manuel. I had kept that a secret from the majority of the crew, only letting the knowledge of those locations be known to the three remaining original crew members as I knew they could be trusted. I didn't even let them know that we were hunting for resources. As before, I had made sure that Holly deleted all navigation data from our trip except for a copy on my personal omni-tool.

Probably a good thing too. That third location had held Manuel's surprise that I would need to talk about with Tevos. Dammit Manuel! I wasn't knowledgeable enough on my own to deal with this.

The training I had been doing with Beau had been brutal. He had admitted at one point that he had actually forgone standard marine basic and was using the fitness regime of N-school. I wasn't up to scratch with it but I was getting better fast. I had already gone far beyond my previous levels of strength and fitness before I took a three day break to get my gene mods. I had gone with a specialist package that had boosted my strength, stamina, speed and reflexes and had also included a hardened skin weave and bone weave. A side effect was to improve hand stability which would make long distance shooting easier. I had been concerned that I would lose nerve sensitivity but had been assured by Liserias that no sensation would be lost, but actually enhanced in concentrated clusters such as those in my fingers. It was another way of boosting the body's ability to detect danger that the mods had been able to improve. Needless to say, I was happy with that. Now I was stronger, faster and more durable than before.

It had also had the side effect of Beau kicking the training up three notches.

But therein lay another problem. I had made some rather important plans and me looking too muscular and healthy was actually problematic and counterproductive to some of them. So it was time to get to the next mission.

Which brings me to this meeting. I looked around the room as the last of the crew walked in. Holly was currently overseeing our travel back to the Citadel, where I would be having a meeting with Tevos about the eezo we had 'found' and the extra discovery at the third eezo sight. Not to mention the little bonus discovery that would be found at the third site.

"All right, thanks for coming so quickly," I called out, gaining the attention of everyone and stopping all little conversations immediately. "Ok, so the reason that I called this little group therapy session is to give you an update on what's going to happen over the next couple of weeks.

"Firstly, we are on the way to the Citadel. I have some business there with Councillor Tevos that needs to be dealt with which should not take any longer than a week or two. You will all be able to have shore leave until we head back out but I may call on you all at random times to help me out with something. If you want to pay to stay somewhere other than the ship but you can pay for it yourselves. Beau," I said, looking at the military man, "I want to continue with my training on every second day. You don't need to be there in person, just give me some exercises to do and I will do them myself. I am going to mix things up so that I improve on the weapons simulators." I wasn't that bad actually. Having had a gun in my old life had given me some much needed practice. Apparently I was now a little above the average marine in shooting at short and mid-range targets. The only thing that I needed was the live-fire experience that I was unlikely to get in a spaceship for the obvious reasons.

Beau just nodded.

"After we get done at the Citadel, we are going to be making a trip to Omega," I continued. I braced myself for the next part, prepared for loud, angry comments. "I want to buy slaves."

Dead silence greeted that statement as it sunk in. I looked around, enjoying the expressions of the crew which ranged from shocked on Aleria, to frosty curiosity on Liserias all the way to the beginnings of rage on Torrin and Jurt.

"You want to explain that?" Jurt rumbled, his voice dangerous.

I nodded. "Aleria," I said, looking at her. "We are going to need your aunt Selaen and maybe a couple of her friends."

Her face cleared up immediately as she understood where I was going with this. "Of course," she said, giving me a bright smile.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Torrin demanded. The young turian was looking furious now. "I thought that you were going to be killing slavers, not giving them work to do!"

I looked at him calmly. "Torrin, I can't believe that you would think so little of me," I said mock sadly. "Selaen is a therapist that specialises in helping former slaves reintegrate back into society."

Understanding came quickly to the whole group, judging by how their faces shifted.

"Buying slaves to free them?" Chop cut in, earning a glare from Jurt. "Not cheap. Also, problematic for a human. Unlikely to trust you."

I gave him a broad smile. "You let me worry about that part," I assured him. "Buying slaves is just the first step in a larger chaotic, time sensitive plan. Though I am going to need your help, Jurt, in getting some background information on how a slave market works. Not to mention likely key players and so on."

He gave a grunt that I assumed was a positive affirmation.

"Hectar, I am going to need your help too," I continued. "I am going to need you to work on a specialised tracing program. I will let you know the details as we work on it."

He tilted his head a little and nodded.

"Good," I said. "Everyone else that is planning on taking part in any ground work will need to step up their training; we are going to need it."

"Good," Beau cut in with an evil grin. "Now I can stop taking it easy on you lot."

Hectar let out a groan and even Torrin looked at the older human a little uncertainly.

"Now, we, as the noble company of Shieldstar Corp, are going to be selling a couple of things once we land at the Citadel so when we arrive there, each of you will be going with a little bonus from me. Well, that's if you call a million credits apiece 'little'."

Enthusiastic cheering immediately replaced the serious atmosphere of the common room, blasting the tense air into non-existence.

…

 **A/N Not going to lie, this felt a little rougher than my previous chapters, which I am going to attribute to the fact that I took a break and need to get back into writing. Admittedly, mostly a filler chapter though it does set up a few things that are to come in the next couple of chapters. It was going to be longer but I ended up splitting it and am going to use the extra stuff for next chapter.**

 **Anyway, please leave a review to help motivate me to get the next chapter out faster and as always Follow/Favourite as you please!**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N I still don't own anything.**

 **Merry Christmas and season's greetings everyone. I hope that you are all safe and sound. I managed to get this chapter done in time for Christmas as my present to you. Don't know how long the next one will take but it will be coming hopefully in the next couple weeks but by the end of January at the latest.**

 **Comments:**

 **ArchAngel319, DragonPony, frankieu, MagicznyGosc, Addlcove, XxZnkeixX, BJ Hanssen Sornosquinfallen, kossboss, Fruityloops87, RFL-3C, FireandIce4664 – thank you all for the reviews. They all mean a lot and help motivate me to keep writing.**

 **Squadpunk 2.0, Awesomesauce – find out this chapter!**

 **DahakStaz – thanks. Yeah it is possible but the biggest issue would be finding a way to build new tech from scratch. At least this way they already have a familiar tech base with technology they understand. As for Eden Prime, I don't want to give it away. Finding space tech is possible. Lots of story left to go, after all. And trust is an issue, but it won't always be. I don't want to go into detail now but hopefully it will be made clear later.**

 **Flying Dragoon – Well, hopefully this fixes it for you.**

 **ParkerThomas – thanks. I understand the difficulty of trying to remember all new OCs. It gets me from time to time when I try to read other stories. I am trying to limit the OCs that get mentioned to a reasonable number so people don't get lost but there still needs to be a few more.**

 **Counter-Terrorist – thanks. I have actually been writing books for real that I want to get published. I have finished a couple and hope that one day someone will be happy to publish it but who knows? It's pretty hard getting published as an unsolicited writer.**

 **Jotun – thanks. No I didn't take it from there. It is an adaptation of another idea I had about lightspeed weapons that I had ages ago but didn't have any story to put it in until now.**

 **On with the story!**

…

 **CHAPTER 16 – MEETINGS AND MINDS**

Tevos unconsciously smoothed out a wrinkle in her impeccable red dress, patiently looking forward to the meeting ahead. The moment that the meeting had been set, she had made sure that Anthalees would be the one on duty to avoid any possible negative tones to begin with. She certainly didn't want a repeat of last time. That had been embarrassing enough for the reputation of her office. She didn't want to risk Maryssa causing another scene.

The door hissed open and Brock Neilson walked in, dressed in an expensive suit with a leather-looking bag held in one hand. _At least he has been spending that money tastefully_ , Tevos thought to herself. Even if his purchases did include that elcor space dock.

She stood up as he entered, as she did for everyone that came into her office. "Mr Neilson," she said in greeting. "Welcome back. It's good to meet with you under more… pleasant circumstances." She couldn't help getting the shot in. It was good to try and unbalance to the other party before negotiations set in. The human had managed to do that to her last time, to her detriment. Goddess knew she had little to use against him as it was.

Predictably, sadly, it didn't work.

"Well, I for one thank you for being less confrontational," he said with a maddeningly easy smile as he made his way towards her and stood before her desk. "I also thank you for not having an assassin waiting in your escape hatch." He nodded towards the hidden doorway that Spectre Bau had been waiting in last time.

Tevos eyed him speculatively. "How do you know that I don't have anyone there?" she asked caustically.

He gave a roguish lopsided grin, highlighted by the scars on his face which gave him an endearing 'scoundrel' appearance, that would have made any maiden blush had he given it to them. But Tevos was no maiden. She would not blush.

Even if she liked the smile.

"My dear councillor," he said, his eyes lit up with amusement. "I would like to think that neither of us are unintelligent enough to have a repeat of that sort of devious behaviour. We would either think of other things to ensure our safety, such as the weapon that you have hidden in your desk draw there." He gestured to the hidden draw on the left side of Tevos' desk. "Though I don't believe you would need to resort to such a tactic when you can rely on your biotic abilities and I cannot."

Tevos blinked, feeling shocked. The existence of that draw was known only to the asari councillors and their seconds. Not even their guards knew about it. There is no way Irissa would have talked and Tevos certainly hadn't.

"How did you…?" she choked herself off and glared at his playful smile. "I don't know how you know about that," she continued in a soft growl, "but if you _ever_ mention that draw to anyone, I will have you arrested for treason and espionage."

She felt her jaw clench as his face kept completely calm in light of her threats. Did he not take her seriously?

"Madam Councillor, you wound me!" he mock protested to her increasing frustration. "What reason would I ever have to mention it? As I told you before, I am working only for the benefit of the entire galaxy. The ability to protect yourself certainly is within the interests of those benefits. I like you sitting safe and sound in this chair and wish that you will do so for many years after my life is over."

She felt her anger slowly fading away as she realised that she had done it again. Fallen victim to his attempts to put her off guard. It was a masterful tactic that she had used herself time and again. She really couldn't help but respect the ability to do it as well as she could.

She just didn't like the fact that he was able to do it to her.

"I'm sure," she said, drily. "How else could you try and manipulate your way into wealth than through me?"

He raised an eyebrow in a show of polite surprise. "I think you are selling yourself short, Councillor Tevos," he said, his tone losing its levity. "I want you there because it means that the galaxy is doing pretty well. You do a fair job, as far as you see it, and in many cases you are right. More importantly, the galaxy remains… stable."

She caught the hesitancy in his words.

"Fair as far as I see it?" she asked. "You don't believe that I am really doing what is best for the whole galaxy?"

He gave a bittersweet smile. "Depends on the day," he replied, his voice tight. "It's either you or Councillor Valern. But some days it's none of you."

"You disagree with some of the Council's decisions? Why?" She had to admit she was genuinely curious, but still mainly unconcerned. All decisions made at least one party unhappy. It was part of the job.

He stared at her for a long moment. Tevos found herself feeling slightly unnerved at the intensity of his gaze. She found herself thinking of the pistol in the draw.

He finally broke off and leaned back in his chair giving a carefree grin that was completely at odds with his previous stare. "I do believe that that is a conversation for another time. For now, we have business to attend to."

She gave a conceding nod, thinking that she would be interested in hearing his thoughts on the matter. He had proven himself rather intelligent, for a human, and having such a conversation would no doubt be rather… interesting.

Mr Neilson brought up his omni-tool and transferred the file of his latest find. She opened it up on her terminal and took a look. Certainly doable. Slightly smaller than the last on but not much. Still within the ability of the Republics to pay without difficulty. The money would have to be shuffled first so that it didn't draw too much attention but that would only take an extra day at most to sort out. Yes, easily doable.

"Market rates are unchanged since our last visit to my office so that is what you shall expect," Tevos said looking up at him. He gave a casual nod of agreement.

"Good to know," she continued. "Is there anything else before we finalise the sale?"

He frowned. "Actually yes," he said, looking more serious than she had ever seen him look so far. "I do have the data for a third asteroid, however, there is a… complicated issue with it that I need your experience in handling,"

She fought the powerful instinct to give a triumphant smile. After the first meeting and the way that this one has gone so far, the fact that he was actually _asking_ for help made her feel a little smug. Clearly he wasn't as infallible as he projected himself to be.

"Indeed?" she asked instead, leaning back slightly in her seat as she felt her personal satisfaction wash over her. "And how could someone such as myself possibly help?"

His expression turned from a frown to a completely unimpressed look that told her she overdid it. "Councillor, you must be out of practice because false modesty is completely lost on you," he said, his tone dry. "I have no problems asking for help when I need it." He raised an eyebrow in a slight challenge. "I also have no problems in admitting when I am wrong."

Tevos started to feel deflated as she started to feel her small victory falling through her fingers. "So what do you need my help with regarding this third asteroid sight?" she asked, bringing the conversation back on topic.

Instead of replying, he lifted up his omni-tool and transferred a file to her terminal. She looked over at it and her mouth fell open in surprise.

"Is this genuine?" she asked quietly, looking back at him in shock.

He nodded slowly, staring at her with that intense, unblinking gaze.

She turned back to the monitor and tapped open the file. The images came through clear but far away. Images taken from two separate planets from within the system.

Images of new races. One looked almost like a salarian, tall and spindly but with four arms instead of two. The other looked like an odd mix between a hanar and varren; top heavy with weird jaw features and tentacles instead of hands.

"How is this possible?" she asked, mystified.

The human gave a tiny shrug, his eyes never leaving her face. "I wasn't sure I believed it myself," he replied. "The odds of having a life-sustaining planet is always a very remote likelihood. Having two in the same system seems like it must be a one off even in a galaxy this large. Let alone them sharing the same orbital path around the sun."

She could help but shake her head in wonder. "Do they know about each other?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I highly doubt it. They are always on completely opposite side of their sun from each other. There is no point in their projected orbit where their planets would be visible to the other without that yellow dwarf being in the way. Not to mention that this one," he opened a specific file and pointed to it for her, it was the spindly race, "has no artificial satellites that we could detect so I don't think that they have achieved space flight. The other one only has two artificial satellites that we could detect so they must be very early into their space age. Obviously we didn't get too close to avoid risking detection so I don't know how advanced they might be. My best guess from the images we were able to detect would be that the tall skinny civilisation which I designated NR1, or New Race 1, would be similar to what humans were in the 1950s or 1960s, at least on their technological level; meaning that they have cars, electricity and so on but nothing too advanced. The other one, who I am calling NR2 seems to be the equivalent of what humans were at the beginning of their technological advancement; meaning that they have electricity but not much of it. I didn't see any cars on our scanners but that doesn't mean much without an in depth study."

Tevos sat back in her chair, still feeling amazed. "You know," she said, musing out loud, "even asari councillors never expect to meet more than one new race at a time while in office. I had thought that when humans came in contact with the Citadel that it would be the one that I got to see, and I was glad, despite the troubling First Contact, to have mine. Councillor Milema before me had her meeting with the elcor and the previous one before her was the hanar and drell. Now I have had three." She couldn't help chuckling to herself. "I believe I have set a new record for new races discovered."

"If I am not mistaken," Mr Neilson cut in with a small smile, "you were already tied because of the failed meeting with the yahg."

She couldn't help returning the smile, caught up in the moment as she was. "Yes, you're right. I guess it is easy to forget them, seeing as they are not part of the Citadel." She looked back to the terminal. "So why are you sharing this with just me? Why not share it with everyone?"

He leaned back in his chair and made himself comfortable. "A few reasons. First was the sale of the element zero asteroid. Now, I believe that you know that the eezo technically belongs to the races in the system, as per Council law. There is the issue that this eezo would technically belong to both of them, though seeing as they don't know about it, it wouldn't be hard for you to claim it, or at least part of it. The next is the aliens themselves. I know that the asari are by agreement the ones who would normally initiate a first contact due to your ability to meld and learn languages. This would mean that it naturally falls within your domain so you needed to be notified. The problem there is that neither of them are currently space exploring civilisations and I have no idea what Citadel policy is in this regard. The third deciding issue…" he hesitated and looked right at her again, "is because I happen to trust you."

She couldn't help but raise her brow ridges in surprise at that. "Really? And what I have I done to earn such trust?" She couldn't help but feel a little pleased.

"Well, maybe I should be more specific," he corrected himself with a small smile. "I trust you more than I trust the salarians or turians. After all, the last time the turians had the initial first contact, they don't know how to not think things through and like to start killing things. The salarians had a mixed bag of first contact history with the krogan and considering how they were caught experimenting on the rachni which led to the Rachni War, I don't trust them to be completely ethical."

Tevos blinked, feeling flat footed. "What?" she squawked. "They never did such a thing!"

The human gave her a rather pitying look. "Do you really think that they wouldn't?" he asked. "I have heard that they even took a few of the yahg corpses from that disastrous meeting to study after the planet was abandoned.

"And how would you be able to know such information?" she demanded.

"History isn't just written by the winners, Madam Councillor," he said evenly. "The bystanders write their observations and guilty minds seek to redeem their conscience by writing their admissions before they die. All people have to do is find the truth."

She narrowed her eyes and glared at him. "And what do you mean by that?" she ground out.

He gave that small little smile that said that he knew more than she wanted him to know. "Only that it is easy to absolve yourself of your own sins when the other side isn't around to contradict you, but even within their own ranks they might not have complete unity of thought. But back to the matter at hand, these new races; I would like your assurances that you wont uplift them and make them client races of the Republics before I give you the information. Then we can agree on price."

She raised a brow ridge. "I hardly think it reasonable to have to pay you to find out the location of these races when we won't own the asteroid in the system."

He raised an eyebrow of his own. "You say that, but there is no guarantee that you can give that won't say that you or someone else from the Republics won't just take it if I give you the location for free. No one else knows about it. It would be my word against yours and humans don't have the court of public opinion in their favour. So, I give you the information for free, you waltz in and take the asteroid without any complaint from the locals who don't know it's even there and you get a great deal of money from nothing along with two potential client races. You pay me for the location, that way if you do or you don't take the asteroid, at least you have the option to choose and I get something back too. That is the only way that this is going to happen."

She couldn't help frowning in annoyance. The problem was, as was often the case with the human she was finding, was that his points were very good and she couldn't think of a counter that he wouldn't be able to object to rather easily. She really wished he as based on the Citadel full time. She relished the kind of mental challenges he seemed to dish up. None of the political sycophants on the Citadel could bring the same challenge, except maybe Valern, and it grew tiring after a while. She just hated that she hadn't won a round against him yet.

"Very well," she finally conceded. "You shall be paid, regardless of whether or not the asteroid is mined by the Republics."

He gave a look of polite surprise. "I have to admit that I expected more of a fight for you," the human said smoothly.

She shrugged. "Even if we don't mine it, two new races are more important that one eezo asteroid," she said.

He gave a mild glare back. "Especially if those races become clients of the Republics," he countered. "Which reminds me, I want there to be contracted protection for these races. They are not to be uplifted at all. They were to follow their set technological course until they reach space before any contact is made."

Reasonable, in her eyes. It would be nearly impossible to enforce but she could at least put it in the contract. "Agreed."

He stared in her eyes for a long moment before finally nodding. "Good, now let's talk price."

…

Silarn Moduk walked in to the public viewing centre looking at the vid posters as he passed. The options for coming feature length vids had certainly increased over the last couple of decades, ever since the humans had become part of the Citadel community. Still, there were relatively few that made their way to the Citadel due to, if he were completely honest, an ongoing bias against humans from the galactic community. Though there was a distinct probability that the humans were only sending their best films, but even so they still didn't seem to send many out of their own space. Going by how many they seemed to make when he had visited their Universal Studios on Earth, he doubted that they were not making many vid films. In fact, there was the distinct possibility that humans made more films than three main races combined, on a yearly basis.

He still wasn't sure why some races would not be able to enjoy human vids. They certainly had talent. And as a vid critic, he had seen more than enough vids to be able to judge.

Walking into the theatre he looked around and saw many familiar faces already sitting in the seating area. All of them critics, as he was, and representing nearly every race in the galaxy. Shockingly, there were even a couple of krogan sitting at the back away from everyone else. They were not even wearing armour! That was possibly more surprising than the fact that there were krogan vid critics. Though on reflection it may not be all that surprising. If the human that had asked for Silarn's services had been the reason that they were in attendance, then the chances were that they were being well paid for their time.

Silarn thought about the invitation that he had received. It had been a message sent to his work-listed message address sent from a human calling himself 'Brock Neilson', seeking the services of honest and impartial vid critics. In return for a substantial amount of money, he would spend two weeks of his time watching what the human called 'popular human vids that had been widely loved from a time before the human race had contacted the Citadel.' Upon asking some questions of his own, he found that none of the vids that would be shown were under a hundred years old. Some of them would even be in black and white, which meant that they had likely been made not long after humans had actually started making vids, or movies, as the humans called them. An old throwback term to when it had been a breakdown of the words 'moving pictures', apparently.

The human had asked that the critics not only review the films but to say if they would recommend them to be shown to their own people and make note of whether or not they believed that audiences from their own races would watch them.

Still, as a lover of vids and a man that could appreciate their art, not matter what race made them, Silarn had willing accepted the human's invitation and had arrived to see the twenty other well known critics that even he could tell were more likely to be impartial milling around the theatre. There were even another eight others that Silarn would say were not as favourable towards humans that had responded to the invitation.

"Silarn Moduk," a flanged turian voice called out to him. He looked over and saw Cassias Messua, a female critic that was more measured in her approach to human vids. He had read some of her reviews himself and had not found anything that would have been considered unfair in her reviews. Many times she had been outright favourable, to the annoyance of some of her more turian-proud readers. She had told Silarn that she only ever responded to them by saying that she had to judge all vids fairly on the basis of 'if any other race made this vid, would I have reviewed it the same way?'. It was the way that she stayed impartial.

"Cassias,", he said with a nod. "I thought I might see you here."

"And I, you," she said, gesturing to the seat next to her. He sat down and made himself comfortable on the omni-gel cushion that moulded itself to his posture. "Though considering that you have been rather prolific in reviewing human vids, I don't find your attendance a surprise."

He shrugged. "The movies that they send to the Citadel are entertaining and well thought out," he responded. "Certainly better than that financial monstrosity Fleet and Flotilla. While it was a film designed to draw attention to the plight of the quarians to try and turn the public mind to the idea that the turians should be able to think of them as dextro partners in heart, it was too full of fluff and ideas that were nearly cringeworthy in their execution that made it difficult to…"

"Woah there, Silarn," Cassias interrupted. "You don't need to give me a review of the Fleet and Flotilla. I saw it with you, remember? I happened to agree with your review at the time. I was only noting that you seemed to enjoy human vids."

He blinked. "Ah, apologies. I find myself going into my critic mindset and we haven't even started watching the vids yet."

She waved off his apology. "I understand," she said placatingly. "I have been trying to prepare myself for this. Though if this Brock Neilson was seeking impartiality in the reviews, I don't know why he would have invited either Marticus or Traxis." She pointed off to two turian reviewers talking together three rows below them and thirteen seats to the lefts. "Those two have never given a positive review to a human vid yet."

Silarn nodded. "Neither has Helia and Klerea," he gestured to two asari that had just walked in together. "I guess that he is seeking to find out if they are able to put their bias aside for the sake of artistic creativity."

She grunted. "I doubt it, but I guess that if this human could find krogan vid critics then anything is possible."

He couldn't help nodding to that.

The lights dimmed halfway down in preparation for the first vid. Every took their seat and all the surrounding conversation ceased. Instead of the light completely fading, a human male walked in through the door and moved to stand at the front of the room, where he turned around and faced the audience.

"Greetings everyone," he called out, not raising his voice but still somehow projecting it to the whole room with ease. "I am Brock Neilson. Thank you all for accepting this invitation. As I explained in my message, this will be an intensive travel through human vid history. Over the next two weeks, you shall see many films that have been created more than a century ago, long before we came in contact with another race. Many of them have been remade and others have been lost in time. By the end of these two weeks, you may feel like you have a better understanding of humans through their history, their philosophy, their artistry, their creativity and their experiences. Alternatively, you may feel like you could go the rest of your lives without ever needing to see a human vid again."

A snort of amusement came from one of the turians that Cassias had indicated early. The human gave the crowd a small grin, barely visible in the low light.

"You will be seeing a wide variety of films, from action and war, to comedy and romance," the human continued. "After each film there will be a thirty minute until the next one starts where you will have time to make your notes so that you can write the reviews I asked you to send me. Before each film I shall give you a small introduction to the next feature so that you can have some context. It may be necessary as there are some things you will see or hear that you may not understand the reference to due to a lack of familiarity with human culture and history. If you do see something that you don't understand the reference to, please make note of it and you can ask me later so I can help you with the context.

"For now, we go into our first feature. This film is nearly two hundred. It led to several people questioning their own existence and even led to humans thinking beyond the fabric of reality."

Silarn sat up further in his chair, his interest definitely peaked.

"So, please now enjoy, The Matrix."

…

The last week had been an interesting experience for me. I had managed to sell two more asteroids to Tevos, which included two new alien races that would most likely join the Citadel once they were became spacefaring. She had even bought my little lie about the salarians testing things on the rachni! I didn't really come across any of that sort of information but seeing as she didn't question it after that first time, I guess she wouldn't put it past them to do it. Still, she bought the excuse as a way of me saying I trusted her, which would hopefully put more trust in me, though that remains to be seen. I had received the money for the asteroids, a cool eight hundred and ninety billion credits if you please, only to be joined once again by my blue shadow Malitae. The asari matriarch actually said a polite hello to me when we met up so I am pretty sure she is madly in love with me. Not really. The look on her face when I talk to her is similar to the image of a cat's anus. She _did_ say hello, but she wasn't all that happy to see me again. Still, I only had to have her with me for two weeks and that was half over.

What I hadn't mentioned was that I had used my experience with Sel and had purchased some blasting explosives on Earth and I had used Hectar to plant on the eezo asteroid. I had actually blown off a few good-sized chunks that I had then towed to the moons over each planet and placed on their surfaces, before proceeding to drag the remaining part of the asteroid out of the system. That way if the asari tried to renege the deal then the new aliens would at least have something.

The orphanage was running full swing now. Klara had made me so proud with how she was progressing in her studies. She is the top human there; only the salarians actually do any better than her due mainly to their enhanced mental abilities. There was a teenage drell female that had recently moved in though and seeing as they had perfect memories and the ability to recall information at will, I have the feeling that Klara may have trouble keeping herself on top of the non-salarians. She would give it her best though; that little girl was very competitive apparently. I was seriously considering adopting her later on, at least when the reapers had been taken care of.

Malaea, my secretary, was based out of the orphanage because at this point there wasn't much work that she couldn't do for me that I couldn't handle directly at this stage. She was in her element running the place though and loved being around the children. I have the feeling that she is going to be clucky as anything and will be wanting a kid of her own the moment that she finds someone she can meld with. But she organised the tutors and all facilities for new children and made them feel safe and welcome. She didn't force them to be there and the duct rats were happy to move in and out as they pleased. There were nearly fifty full time kids now though and I was just happy that I had chosen a large former office space so that I had room. I would likely need to expand soon though. Legally there were only allowed to be eighty-three full time residents, according to the contract so I had asked one of the older kids, a salarian named Cress, to start looking for another building on the same Ward so that they could at lest be near each other.

Project: Hearts and Minds had started. I was probably overgenerous in calling it a project. It was mainly an attempt to open up aliens to human culture through the medium of films. Show a large range of films that would appeal to many different aliens for whatever reason and hope that the impact would filter through. I had no idea how successful it would be, if at all, but I thought it might be good to give it a go. After all, if I don't try then I have already failed. So far the response had been promising. The salarians had very much enjoyed The Matrix, the turians had been touched by Hacksaw Ridge and had been far more impressed when the realised it was basically a real story, only done by actors and changing the time line a little. The asari preferred romance and period dramas it would seem so there would be some there. The reviews seemed to vary depending on how anti-human the reviewer was but it was still only a couple of days into the project so that would hopefully bear fruit.

In the meantime, I had asked Aleria to take Hector and Ely to go out to the other coordinates to find the remaining five asteroids while I stayed on the Citadel. She hadn't been happy about leaving me alone while Jurt, Carlos, Chop and Misol stayed on the Citadel on shore leave. She would be gone for nearly a month while I conducted some business here on the Citadel and trained with Beau and Torrin in my spare time. The amount of shooting simulators that were here made it easier for Beau to be able to integrate combat training into our routine. Jurt had promised to help with that so it made us a four-man ground team once we were ready to go.

Nelathie and Horaxus would be staying on the _Hidden Enterprise_ while they worked on more special projects that I had given them. Nelathie had already solved the orbital systems on our defence platform designs. Because it was a split system assembly, with one eezo core powering the weapon and a separate one keeping the thing in space, it had been easy to go with existing principles and they had only taken a few days to incorporate our designs. Now she was planning a dumbed down version that could be sold on the market without drawing too much attention to itself. The smaller ODP would only fire projectiles of about eighty-five kilograms but that was still double what the turian's best platforms would do. Another problem that I wanted her to solve in the meantime was finding a way to stop the projectile of the larger designs. After all, five hundred tons slamming into a planet at light speed was likely to be an apocalypse level event if it accidentally hit a planet and while I was trying to save the galaxy, I didn't feel like I would be doing that if I killed off a civilisation by mistake.

Horaxus was doing his best to finish modifying the three weapons I had according to the specifications we had discussed. I was already feeling how excited he was at the idea of producing 'ground breaking weapons', as he put it. He was close to finishing the modified Thumper but that is mostly because there were not too many things he wanted to do to it. The harder part was finding an adequate way to cool a fully automatic shotgun and a minigun. I made a suggestion that having recyclable thermal clips might be a way to do it and his face had just lit up like a kid in a candy store as he went back to work.

Chop was still on the Citadel but he was chasing down some experimental and not completely legal parts for the armour that I wanted for some of my first missions. Carefree the man may be in a normal setting, he was a perfectionist in his work.

Meanwhile, Misol would be helping me by going around and purchasing all the things a person would need to be able to run a space dock that could handle ship upgrades and ODP construction. There were hundreds of construction drones to be ordered, metals, cables and a whole list of other supplies that needed to be available so that construction could actually take place. She had set up a list of likely things and was chasing them down for me. She had also taken Carlos with her so that the young perv wouldn't be alone on the Citadel for too long at a time and she was strong enough to not take any of his staring without a fight. Many materials were available on the open market but some stuff had to be negotiated for in person and I was happy to let her do that on behalf of the company. I had higher level people to deal with.

Speaking of, I walked up the stairs, passed the human embassy in the hallway that looked exactly like the game. The distances were a little skewed but the design was the same. I had made this journey once before when meeting with elcor ambassador. Now it was time to meet with his office mate.

I hit the electronic buzzer at the entrance and waited for the door to open. Considering the attitude that Din Korlack had towards humans, I wasn't surprised that I waited for five minutes for the door to open.

I stepped into the office and walked over to the short volus sitting at his desk, leaving Malitae to wait outside. There was no chair out there so I had no idea what she was planning on doing but hey, good luck to her.

Honestly it was a little comical when I saw the diminutive alien; it looked like he was sitting in a high chair. Calyn wasn't there; apparently one of Din Korlack's biggest gripes was that it was nearly impossible for them to do business in their office because they were unable to make appointments at the same time. As the volus were responsible for much of the turian economy and their own, that meant that they needed to have lots of business meetings and conference calls. Confidentiality was nearly impossible and the ambassadors had lots of conflicting scheduling issues.

"Greetings, Earth-clan," the ambassador wheezed at me, his tone clearly unhappy. "About time you are hear. What do you want?" It wasn't said as a question, more like a sarcastic demand.

I raised an eyebrow in polite annoyance. "Indeed, Irune-clan," I replied coolly. "Though had you been paying better attention to something other than your wallet, I imagine that you would have realised that I waited politely outside your office for the last five minutes, and I am still in your office five minutes early. If you are going to be impolite, do not expect me to offer you a fair deal."

The little alien sat up in its chair and tilted its head at me. "Oh really? And what would a human know about fair deals?" His tone was dripping in sarcasm now.

I looked around the office. "Apparently more than you," I replied. "After all, I am fairly sure that the idiot representing the Alliance is in a larger office which he doesn't have to share with anyone."

The only sound for the next few moments was the hissing of the vol as he breathed.

"I don't like your attitude, Earth-clan," he spat, making it sound like an insult. "Tell me what you want and get out."

I gave him a sarcastic smile. "Listen here, little fart bubble," I said quietly as I leaned forward and stared straight into his faceplate. "You are going to behave yourself, or I will have to have a word with CSEC about your little dealings with Barla Von, who I happen to know is an agent for the Shadow Broker. How do you think CSEC and the turian councillor will respond to the public knowledge that the volus ambassador has dealings with the most wanted figure in Council space?"

That had been a beautiful piece of information that my dutiful quarians had stumbled upon during their background search on the ambassador. Of course, they hadn't known about the Broker connection until I told them.

The words had the desired effect though. The ambassador jerked in his seat and raised his arms in alarm. "I don't know what you are talking about, Earth-clan!" He no longer sounded condescending, but rather was scared. "All of my dealings with Barla Von are only related…"

"Yes I am sure that you are completely innocent," I said snidely. I was admittedly having more fun at his expense than I should have. It was also a dangerous risk. A person who willingly collaborated with the Shadow Broker was someone who quite possibly willing to hire the Broker's agent to remove someone by an assassin. Luckily, from what I remember, Din Korlack was also a coward if he thought his position was under threat, as shown in ME3 when Cerberus was blackmailing him. An easily susceptible person to blackmail was actually what I needed for today, if only to make him more agreeable.

"However, it's not what I believe that will be the issue if CSEC find out," I said mock sadly. "It's what the information shows, what doubts are cast and whether or not your reputation as an ambassador could weather such a storm of controversy. Oh," I paused and looked him directly in the face again, letting my features harden to show the threat, "and if any unfortunate accidents should happen to me, no matter how innocent they may appear, I guarantee you that the information, including images and recordings, _will_ make its way to the Council, CSEC and the news agencies." I gave him a tight, bitter smile. "Just so you don't think that removing me before you think I have the chance to give the information away would prevent such a release. I wouldn't have told you about it if I wasn't ready to have to information ready to send."

The volus visibly deflated. "What do you want?" he asked in a defeated tone.

I let my smile turn from bitter to a more genuine one. "Honestly, just for you to treat me with the normal respect you would give anyone during the meeting."

He stared at me for a full minute. It was a little frustrating, not being able to see his face. At least with the quarians they were very expressive with their body language, this little guy was a stone.

"That's all?" he finally said in disbelief.

I nodded. "That's all," I confirmed. "I actually don't want you removed from your position and not because of any leverage that I have over you. In fact, while I do want to buy from you, I also want to help you and your people."

He sat a little more upright. "How?" he asked.

I waved my hand dismissively. "I will tell you in a moment," I said. "First, I want to talk about that space dock that you have for sale."

We spent the next twenty minutes talking about the dock that the Vol Protectorate had up for sale. Thankfully, due to the money that I had received from the latest asteroids from Tevos, I was able to convince him to sell it to me on the spot. He had been a little more resistant than Calyn, preferring to wait until the full tender had been completed. He gave in eventually, agreeing to take the sum of two hundred and fifty billion credits in exchange for the space dock and their promise to remove the volus standard atmosphere regulators and install asari standard ones, which would work for humans just fine. I was extremely happy. With the two space docks, I had the beginnings of my very own shipyards. I just had to check to see if there had been any responses to my job placements for new hires.

"Now, you said something about helping my people?" Korlack said expectantly.

"Yes," I confirmed slyly. "I want to help your people get what you have been wanting for the last hundred years or so. I want to help you make a plan to get a seat on the Council."

He completely froze for a moment. Good, I had shocked him. I couldn't help but find a small amount of perverse joy in getting him to respond the way that I wanted him to. The rotund little alien had such a chip on his shoulder towards humans that I had almost reconsidered. If it wasn't for the fact that the galaxy needed this to have the best chance to survive then I would have likely just left after I had bought the space dock.

"If we haven't been able to secure ourselves a seat on the Council, how does someone from a new race such as yourself believe that they are able to help us?" he asked, his tone suspicious.

I sat back in my chair and looked at him confidently. "By giving you perspective," I replied easily. "You see, the problem that you have right now is that you believe that since you helped to unify the galactic economy, that would be enough to earn your people the respect and position that would be required to gain that coveted spot in the Council chambers." I gestured casually around the office. "Clearly, that wasn't even enough to give you your own office."

An odd grunting came from Korlack. "And how do you think we would be able to alter that situation?" the question sounded sceptical but there was a definite tone of genuine curiosity there as well.

I had him.

"The problem that you are facing is despite everything the volus have done, you really are not actually an associate race of the Citadel," I said.

He tilted his head in what I assumed was a gesture of confusion. "What are you talking about?" he demanded. "Of course we are! We have been for centuries..."

"No," I cut in. "You have been a client race of the _turians_ for centuries, while _they_ have been an associate of the Citadel. You are hiding behind their defences as their subjugates and therefore have not even been able to see that you are more than two steps away from gaining a Council seat."

"Our association with the turians has been nothing but beneficial for the volus…"

"Has it?" I challenged, leaning forward towards him. "Oh sure, you haven't needed to worry about building up your own fleet and waste precious money on cruisers and dreadnoughts that could have been used on other investments, but that has left you in a position worse than the batarians. Effectively, it puts you in the same bracket as the hanar only without the drell to defend you. You have access to the Citadel and the benefits that it provides, but your achievements are overlooked because you're not even in charge of yourselves. The turians are your rulers. It's almost the political version of slavery."

He jerked in his seat and put his hands on the desk to steady himself. Even though he was wearing his suit, the increased wheezing from his filter told me that I was getting through to him.

"The prerequisites of getting a Council seat are actually not that hard to know once you take a look at the facts," I continued, staring his hard in the faceplate. "The first thing you need to do is make yourselves independent of the turians, not remain as a client race. This means that you have to start building up your naval forces. How many dreadnoughts do the volus have of their own?"

"… none."

I sighed. This was obviously going to take longer for them to do than I had hoped. And I had just bought a space dock from them so they effectively had less resources to call upon. Well, too bad. I wasn't giving it back.

"According to the Treaty of Farixen, you are able to build up to six, going by the current advertised numbers of the turians," I said. It was a good thing that the turians, in their arrogance, advertised their military might to the galaxy. It made it easy to know what to plan for if one was to oppose them. "With the two further dreadnoughts they have under construction it will mean that within two years you will be able to have a seventh. With the cruisers and frigates that would go along with those capital ships I estimate that you would need to build a couple of hundred warships. The reason for this is because not only does it show that you are willing to look after and protect yourselves, it means that you will be available to fulfil the next two requirements: having a sufficient armed force to be able to look after your own interests until a Council fleet can aid you and, most importantly, you would be able to show that you are willing to take responsibility to aid in the stability of the galaxy. By having the forces available to assist in time of a crisis, you would be showing that you are not just a race that would cry for help. You would be able to help those who are also crying for aid."

I leaned back in my chair again. "Look at the state of the galaxy," I continued. "The largest armed forces are without doubt the turians, asari and salarians in that order. After them it is the humans and the batarians. The Alliance has taken it upon themselves to clear out the pirate menaces in the Traverse. The batarians technically have more resources available to call upon than the humans because they have a large number of pirates that they call upon to aid their slave economy. Seeing as that is a violation of Council law, they won't be getting a Council seat any time soon. After them it is the quarians but only on account of their navy and purely because the gap between the humans and the next race, yours, is so massive that you are not likely to ever catch up without a massive amount of investment in military spending. You and your bombing fleet made up entirely of cruisers is what puts you above the hanar. The elcor don't have a navy and neither do the drell. In military might, you are vastly found wanting. You don't have soldiers anywhere near on par with the drell, or even the quarians. That means that a placement in the Spectres is highly unlikely as the Council agents need to be highly combat efficient. While you helped the galactic economy, you are certainly not the largest. The asari beat everyone by a large margin. You maintain the turian economy for them, then it is the salarians and then the humans. Sorry to tell you this, but you are not even likely to get a Council seat before the Alliance at this rate."

I cleared my throat a little which was starting to get sore after my long explanation. "So, to summarise: if you want to get your people a place on the Council, you need a massive military expansion and only once that has happened, remove yourselves from under the turians and strive for independence. All in all, I would say that if you put your minds and your money to it, you could be on the Council in about ten years. Maybe fifteen."

Honestly, I didn't care about them having a seat on the Council. The only thing that I needed from them was to boost their military and fast. I knew that they were desperate for a seat on the Council and I was willing to play on that if it helped me out. At least they had the money to build one.

"Your ideas… may have some merit," Din Korlack conceded reluctantly. "Perhaps we have been thinking about this the wrong way. We had hoped that our contributions would be enough but we have seen time and again that this wasn't the case and we have been repeatedly refused a place on the Council. Maybe your ideas will help us to remove any other possible objections that the Council is using to deny us a place. And as much as I hate to admit it, we will likely need to distance ourselves from our turian friends if we are to stand on our own feet." He gave a long sigh. "It just pains me to thin that a human of all people came up with this." He gave a very long pause. "Thank you." It was said very reluctantly.

I gave a small smile of amusement. "You're Welcome. And, if it helps, I want you to pretend that we never talked about this so that you can claim all the credit for it. That would let you go down in history as the man that promoted your people to a place on the Council, not a human interferer."

He gave a small chuckle. "Thank you. Though," he hesitated as he tilted his head towards me, "it seems now that selling you the space dock was counterproductive to helping us build up our defences."

I let my smile grow. "Maybe, but I am not letting you back out of the sale now," I said. "You have signed the contract and I intend to see it fulfilled."

He raised his hands and waved them placatingly. "Don't worry," he said, his tone now completely free from all of his earlier hostility. It almost seemed as if he thought of me as an equal now. "We volus hold our business deals in extremely high regard. The contract has been signed and so will be honoured in its entirety. You will get the space dock with its modifications."

"Good," I said. "But if it helps, I can assist you with your efforts. My company is actually in the process of building some orbital defence platforms that may interest you."

…

 **Thessian Suns Publication**

 **Vid Review by Helia Mis'audis**

 **Titanic**

I recently received an invitation for what I had deemed to be the rather dubious honour of watching some classic (old) vids that were created by the humans long before they had reached the stars. It was not something I had looked forward to. Then my host gave me the unexpected pleasure of Titanic, a vid film that at one time had been the highest grossing vid produced. Based on real events of the maiden voyage of the largest ocean-faring pleasure cruise liner, Titanic, this vid blends tragedy and romance into a masterful display of class and beauty to a scale that I had not expected humans to be able to produce. The class distinction between citizens is something that all asari can view in their daily life, bringing the ability to associate and appreciate this vid on a cultural level that we have not seen in human media thus far, other than the benign 'evil corporation' stigma so many of their bland films seem to focus on. All in all, this vid was a glint of eezo in the rough and I have already recommended to the host that he allow it been shown in limited screenings on Thessia for those who love a good tragic romance.

…

 _ **Palaven Daily Call**_

 **Vid Review by Cassias Messua**

 **Saving Private Ryan**

This is an old human vid based during their second planet-wide war, or World War 2, as they call it. A tale of the brotherhood among soldiers, told with unapologetic action and violence to accurately reflect what conflict looks like. The film focuses on a squad of troops in their attempt to locate a single soldier in a cast combat zone. It is both inspiring and confronting for those of us who don't believe the humans are capable of fighting a real war and for those who believe that small skirmishers with pirates equates to the fury of the Krogan Rebellions. Anyone who watches this cannot help but respect the human spirit in war as soldiers try to make sense of the chaos of battle orders. A must see for any military personnel or former military personnel. Any turian would love this, even if it was made by humans. The opening sequences alone will keep you captivated.

…

 **Sur'kesh Leaf Script**

 **Vid Reviewer Silarn Moduk**

 **Comic Book Films**

There are many things that require imagination to create success. Business ideology, military strategies, even basic technological advancement. What many of us salarians fail to do is apply that in other ways of entertainment. Humans have almost perfected and monopolised a medium that focuses nearly completely on the use of imagination: comic books. Ideas of beings in fiction who are capable to absurd levels of strength or have weird abilities that no ordinary being is capable of. These unique individuals are then given the chance to do something with their talents, something each of us strives to do in our daily lives. Due to their unique situations, many of these become superheroes. And along with superhero comic book characters, you have superhero movies.

The movies from the early 21st century by the human calendar, nearly two hundred years ago by Citadel standard, made by Marvel Studios, stand out in this category. The brilliance of Iron Man, the expansion of that 'universe' through Captain America and Thor, the amalgamation of the characters in the Avengers, the expansion of their characterisations and most importantly the scale of their villains, all of it culminates in some very impressive work of a like that we have not seen in the vid industry in enough detail. This is not the review of a single vid but of a vid series that must be seen together. If you want to have many hours of enjoyable vid viewing, see these vids as they become available, either through special screening organised by yours truly, or by purchasing the boxsets off the extranet through S-Star Releases. You won't be disappointed.

…

 **The Krogan Word**

 **Ognut Grax**

 _ **Citadel Weekly Factoral**_

Humans make good movies about killing stuff. Favourite options were The Expendables series, Terminator 1 and 2, Robocop, Inglorious Basterds, Fury, Gladiator and Kill Bill 1 and 2. Good action, lots of blood and guts. More impressive that some of them are based on real events. Means that humans probably realise scrap-fighting better than any other squishy race. Go see their action movies to watch things die in good ways.

Also, someone needs to find a way to make dinosaurs. Jurassic Park was great entertainment and now I wanna fight a T-Rex. Things look more intimidating than a thresher maw. Don't get me started on the V-raptors. I dunno how to spell it but I want one as a pet.

…

 **A/N Please Review and Follow/Favourite as you please!**

 **So yeah, tried something a little different at the end. Hope you enjoyed it. If not… too late now!**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N I don't own… well, you know by now**

 **Well, I am not dead! So, I know that I had thought this was going to be out before the end of January and yet here we are in mid-April. The reason for the delay was that I was working crazy 60 -80 hours a week and between that, life and school (I just handed in a 69-page assignment, not kidding), I ended up being burnt out. I had to reorganise my life and time. I have not given up the stories, no fear, but I am not going to be delivering chapters to a schedule anymore. They will come out when I finish writing them. I know that this will disappoint a few people but the options that I have are these: take my time and do it as I am able and get the story out slower; or go ahead, try to keep the stories going at the same pace, burn out and end up discontinuing any and all current and future stories that I was planning on doing. I actually like these stories and want to finish them so I am going to be working on them, but the chapters will come out when they are ready. I hope you can understand and that you choose to stick with me as I do this.**

 **Comments:**

 **A massive thank you to all who thanked me. Your support means a lot. And I am glad that so many of you seemed to enjoy the little reviews that I put at the end of last chapter. Believe it or not, they were all thought of at the last second. I didn't even think of the doing the krogan review until the day I uploaded it and that was everyone's favourite. More on that in 2 chapters time.**

 **Thisguyyouknow – hmm interesting idea. Might be able to do something like that later on.**

 **Necromancy94 – funny that you say that. This was actually supposed to be my main story. I only thought about doing the other one as a bit of fun and didn't expect either of them to be as popular as they are. But they will both be written.**

 **Guests – no not slash. And as far as the Tevos relationship goes… well, I don't want to ruin anything in that regard. Not saying you any relationships will be with.**

 **MagicznyGosc – yeah 8. And as for pokemon… things are beginning!**

 **Madman123456 – yeah, I get your point about Titanic. And the less said about the Matrix sequels the better. As they had Blasto as their action hero though I think they would be familiar with horrible bad guy shooting.**

 **BJ Hanssen – now that is a majestic mental image!**

 **DahakStaz – well let's see, medigel is already invented but that doesn't mean it couldn't use an investor. The rachni will be addressed later on. The reaper corpse will be brought up. Therum will be looked at later but I have not yet completely settled on how because that is a solid number of chapters between now and then. Virmire… is going to be part of a bigger plan for the OC.**

 **On with the story!**

…

 **CHAPTER 17 - OMEGA**

The last few weeks had been rather eventful. I had managed to have successful talks with the elcor about buying some of their heavy metals, such as tungsten, which I was going to use for weapons, as well as regular steel and other components which I would be using for orbital platforms. The purchasing of the materials had taken a large chunk of my considerable wealth but not enough to cut me down to half yet. I was pleased with this because I would rather have spare credits in the bank for any unexpected issues that arose. As it was I had already received a 'courtesy call' from Citadel Tax Division asking me to pay the money that I owed them in accordance with Citadel law. I told them that they would have to wait until I had spoken to my accounting firm before I paid so much as a single credit. They had tried to argue the point but all it did was give me a headache and reinforce something that I had had felt living back in my original time.

I hate tax bureaucrats. With a passion.

I had visited a few and settled on one recommended by the president of my bank. It was a volus run accounting firm and I met with their director, which was apparently an unexpected event according to the secretary. It made sense about thirty seconds into my meeting when the director told me that he was a friend of the volus ambassador. Apparently after I had booked my appointment the director had received a call from the ambassador which apparently went in my favour and I had received a recommendation that all work was to be done at volus government discount. What that meant was not what humans would call a discount. It meant that they were going to funnel my money around _all_ of the legal loopholes so that I was able to get the best tax deductions possible. Seeing as the volus had been a major part of organising those loopholes, they were basically unrivalled in navigating them. All in all, it dropped my tax rate from about twelve percent to less than one percent. I promised that they would be able to round the take it up to a whole number and they would be able to keep the difference as a bonus. So if I paid 0.56% in tax, they would be able to claim 0.44% as a bonus to bring the money taken out as one percent.

One of the more enjoyable things I had been able to do was meet with a Japanese games company that I paid for to come to the Citadel so that I could hire them to do pokemon for me. Call me nostalgic but it just would have felt wrong getting anyone else other than Japanese animators and programmers working on the games. I had taken a good couple of days writing out and drawing, maybe a little poorly but still reasonably clear, the first generation pokemon except for porygon. Somehow I don't think the Citadel community could handle having an AI pokemon thrown into the mix. Still, it left me with a good number to work with and the gaming company, Hashiji Gaming because Nintendo didn't want to bother with an unknown, were very keen to get the battle game simulators working on this 'inspirational use of imagination'. I felt a little guilty about basically stealing this for myself but seeing as there was no one to complain against me for doing it, I figured that I needed to make sure I had a steady stream on income and this was one of the best ways to do it.

We haggled for a while and came to an agreement that I would provide the funding for the initial production, release and marketing while they would provide the avenues for the galactic market for the necessary exposure. I gave them all the pokemon for the first two generations then would give them creative licence to keep going from there and would only throw in occasional pokemon that they could use for the game. That worked out for me because I could really only remember the first two generations worth of pokemon and then saw random ones after that. I kinda got out of it in my later teens and just didn't keep up with what pokemon they brought out. Still, I had two generations worth to give a few years of work to play with.

After all was said and done, I would own seventy percent of the licence and had overall veto power as to creative decisions but would basically leave day to day running to Hashiji Games and their director for the pokemon product. I only owned that much because of all the initial work that I had put in and the fact that I was providing one hundred percent of the initial finance. Hashiji would be providing an almost completely lifelike simulator that would make it feel like you were actually living in the pokemon world. It was fully immersive and interactive to a scale that I could only have dreamed of as a kid. It was one of the things that I loved about living in this universe.

Something that we both agreed on was having a cartoon to go along with the release, just like we had in my universe. Luckily, I remembered the basics of the first season of pokemon and was able to provide the details in short order of how the season would go along and gave over creative licence to the animation company for anything beyond that.

All in all, I hoped to introduce the world of pokemon to the galaxy in a big way and I was prepared to spend a few million credits to do it. Hashiji were happy to do their part. I had a god suspicion that it would be a decent source of income.

"Cap, we're coming up on Omega now," Aleria cut into my reflective thoughts. I look over to her and couldn't help but notice she was a little nervous. "We are being hailed."

"Thanks Aleria," I replied evenly. "Send a request to dock. Tell them we have an appointment with Aria. That should get us in faster. I need to finish getting armoured up."

"Ok, just… be careful down there." Ever since she had come back from finding all of the five remaining asteroids that I had been given from Manuel, she had been happier and more flirty with me. I had to admit, the attention was good for the ego but I was still trying to work out my feelings after everything my ex-wife had done to me.

I gave her a small smile at her concern then turned and headed down towards the armoury. This should be interesting. As long as Jurt didn't start a fight before we got there. Or when we got there. Or after…

Fifteen minutes later I finished clamping the Thunder assault rifle to the magnetic plate on my back, just above the Tornado shotgun that was in its place across my lower back. I had already put my custom Foehammer heavy pistol on my right side, slightly lower than standard where I would be able to draw it fast while standing casually. I had thought about bring the newly dubbed Thanatos shotgun, the renamed version of the AA-12 that Horaxes had been working to convert to eezo technology, but I didn't want to draw attention to it yet. You never know who was watching and something as valuable as a brand new shotgun that was going to be a signature of Shieldstar Armouries would definitely draw attention. That and it still needed tweaking.

I realised that while I wasn't going to be the best out there in a firefight but with my training with Beau, I should at least be competent. I had worked damn hard to get that way going through the simulators on the Citadel, making sure that I was always put on higher levels than I was ready for in an attempt to push me further.

Beau had called it obsessive once but never once did he try and prevent me from doing what I was after. Easy firefights don't really exist, he said, and easy training for them left people dead. I think that was his personal way of saying that he was happy with my commitment to training but I might have just been slightly optimistic. Either way, I had been able to improve drastically in a short amount of time thanks to the training from Beau and the tips from Jurt. They had run me and Torrin for hours on end and done their best to mould us into soldiers. According to Beau, I had already well surpassed any standard soldier having completed basic training, most likely at a level with the commandoes and would keep improving as long as I worked hard and kept taking it seriously.

Jurt had just said that I wasn't likely to be the first one dead on the battlefield. He was encouraging that way.

Torrin had also improved but not to my level. He had the natural turian physical abilities but he didn't have the mind for combat yet. My time in guarding and fighting prisoners had given me a better mindset for situational awareness that being a duct rat had not. Oh, he had been aware of surroundings but it wasn't the same; both Beau and Jurt agreed on that. In the Citadel combat simulators I had managed to get up to the top levels with Beau before I got tagged. Torrin kept losing his shields a little below midway which Jurt kept growling at him over.

Of course, the training and the simulators weren't real combat. That was hammered into us both time and time again. The lack of life and death meant that there wasn't the adrenaline rush, the hypersensitivity that combat gives you until your nerves settle. The first few times are always the jumpiest for any soldier. I had to be aware that what I was going into wasn't something that I can just hit the reset switch on.

It had made me wonder if Manuel would let me do that. I thought I was probably better if I didn't find out.

I headed up to the airlock where my resident krogan was already waiting. I gave him a stare that didn't intimidate him in the slightest.

"You sure that you aren't going to fly off the handle if you see any Blood Pack?" I demanded.

His mouth twitched. "Like I told you before, I can hold back," he growled. "At least for a while. As long as none of them speak to me I will be good."

"Then wear your helmet so they won't know that it's you and won't care," I argued. "You got it painted now so that it won't show that it's you for a reason."

He just made a rumbling in his throat and turned away as armoured footsteps behind me announced the arrival of Beau. Torrin had wanted to come but I told him that I wanted him to stay on guard inside the ship near the airlock in full armour, just in case someone was stupid enough to try and break in. He had complained for a little while but gave in eventually.

"Torrin's just coming up elevator three now," Beau said on arrival as he tucked away his own shotgun. A katana series, heavily modified, if I wasn't mistaken. "Kid's still grumbling about being left on rear guard but he'll get over it."

I nodded and took a deep breath to steel myself. "Alright then, we have an asari warlord to meet," I said drily. "Who brought the flowers?"

That earned a grunt from Jurt and a small smirk from Beau. "Somehow, I don't think that Aria is one who appreciates the usual forms of seduction," the old human soldier replied. "A better gift would probably be the dismembered heads of her enemies."

"That's what _I_ would probably get her," Jurt agreed as he hit the airlock door release. "But then, I am a bit of a romantic that way."

"Captain is ashore, Aleria has command," Holly's voice came over the intercom.

A quick cycle of decontamination and we found ourselves in the docking bay of Omega. There were dozens of people milling around doing odd jobs. None of them ever looked over, which was more than enough to make me feel a little on edge. Normally anything out of the ordinary made a normal person at least look over at it. Then again, this was Omega so people had probably become used to ignoring anything that didn't involve them directly.

"You notice it to?" Jurt said, his voice slightly tinny coming through his helmet's speakers.

"The complete lack of attention people gave us?" I asked. "Yeah. I was just wondering if it was because they were doing it on purpose or if it was because this is Omega."

"Oh, they're doing it on purpose," Jurt said. "Never seen people here collectively ignore us the way that this lot is."

"Maybe it has something to do with the batarian standing over there watching us," Beau said drily, nodding to the exit where an armoured batarian was watching them closely.

I took a look at him. There were no identifying marks on his armour that I could see so I thought it might be Aldo, a batarian that worked for Aria.

"Most like," I agreed. I put a finger to my ear and activated my comm. "Aleria, lock the ship down tight. Things are looking a little murky out here. Make sure that Torrin stays alert and maybe get Hectar up with him too. Can't be too careful in a place like this."

"Sure thing, Boss," Aleria chirped back. I clicked the line off.

"Well," I said to my entourage, "might as well get this over with."

We marched towards the batarian standing in middle of the road at the exit, not caring about the carefully unobservant crowds. Though a heavily armed krogan may have been an added incentive for people to hurry out of our way as we approached.

"Brock Nielson from Shieldstar," the batarian grunted in a neutral tone when we reached him. "Aria's been expecting you. Make your way to Afterlife now. She's waiting in her private booth at the back. Head there; the guards know to let you in."

I just nodded casually and he turned around and left. "Well, you know this place best, Jurt," I said conversationally. "Lead the way. Heads on a swivel though. We probably don't have any friends here."

A pair of acknowledging grunts met that and we made our way through the streets. The game made it look like the docking bay was only a short walk from the nightclub. What the game obviously didn't put into account for the player though was that Omega was huge. The damn thing was nearly as big as the Citadel and looked kinda like a giant ice cream cone with the eezo asteroid sitting on top. Afterlife was almost in the dead centre of the station itself and we were more than five kilometres away.

Thankfully, Jurt knew a public transit car place that the Blue Suns operated near the docking bay that we could use to rent one and park it at another rental space right near the entrance of Omega. When we landed, I realised that it was the same one transit car place that you use in ME2 when you do the Archangel recruitment mission. The mercs that waited us when we landed didn't say anything other than to acknowledge our arrival and then left us alone.

We marched towards where the nightclub was, led by the bright lights, the thumping of the bass and the line of people coming back a long way into the street. The neon lights above the entrance were the exact same as I remember from the game. The only difference was that there was no elcor standing at the door as a guard. But then, seeing as there is still going to be nearly four years until Shepard comes here and we see the elcor guard in the game, there is plenty of time for the large quadruped to get the job. Instead, there was a turian holding an old assault rifle that I didn't recognise and a pair of krogan on each side of the doorway. An older looking salarian was standing in front of the line holding a datapad that I guess meant that there was a list of official queue jumpers. Well, at least as official as a place like Omega got.

We skipped the line and straight into the club, pausing only just long enough for the salarian to confirm that we were on the 'approved entry' list. The cries of protest and people saying that it was 'unfair that they had been there for more than an hour' were quickly overridden by the heavy beats of the dance music as we moved inside.

Strangely, no one had even questioned us about our weapons.

We pushed our way through the dancing crowd. The loud pumping beat was grinding on my nerves a little and found myself unconsciously clenching my fists at the deafening cacophony that made the air feel like it was pulsing. My eye twitched little and my jaw clenched as I fought against the old reflex to panic. I took a few long and deep breaths, more grateful than ever that I had forced myself to get used to music again. If this had been the first time that I was listening to music after I came to this universe, I would be less than useless right now.

I fought hard and squashed the impulses until I felt like I was mostly back to normal before I cursed myself. This whole situation was putting Aria in a position of power before I even had my meeting. I _had_ to get hold of myself before I started talking to her or I had already lost. I refused to let that happen without a fight.

Clamping it down tightly, I took another long, soothing breath which almost fully settled me and, doing my best to ignore the cautious stare that Beau was giving me, continued through the crowd of sweaty dancers and booze soaked partiers and made my way to the stairs at the back of the cavernous room.

The lone turian guard holding his assault rifle in his talons was kinda the big clue that I had found where I needed to go. He did a quick ID check and let us past him. At the top of the stairs was a landing that I didn't remember from the game. There were five guards, made up from a krogan, three turians and a salarian, standing next to a large table that went along the back wall. Behind them was another door that I assume led to Aria's office overlooking the club floor.

"Weapons on the table," one of the turians said. "All of them. Your guards too."

I raised an eyebrow. I didn't remember this from the game. They were very specific with that line about not checking for weapons when Shepard got scanned. Still, I guess she was considered a known quantity and despite whatever intelligence Tevos would have passed on about me, I was unknown.

"I trust that nothing will be touched while we are out of sight?" I asked without moving.

"That depends on what Aria decides," the snappy retort came. "If she is happy with whatever business deal you have then you'll get everything back just fine. If you annoy her too much, well, you won't need to worry about anything ever again."

I snorted slightly at the threat. "Well, you heard him lads," I said, cheerfully. "Disarm."

I moved over to the table and started taking my weapons off my back. Then I took the knives off my belt. Then the one off my boot. Then I looked at the guards stared directly into the eyes of the turian, wondering if I should take the chance, of having my hidden weapons come through with me. This was Omega after all. That being said, this was Aria that I was going to be meeting with. She had a personal relationship with Tevos, who would have already told her about this meeting. The odds were that I would be able to get out of here without any issue. Going from the games and from what I had heard since I got here, Aria was a person who had at least a small amount of honour when it came to deals. She kept her end of the bargain so long as it gained her something. There wasn't much that I had to gain by sneaking weapons into a meeting where I was hoping that she would be able to help out with something. Plus, I had a small token gift, though that wasn't really worth all that much. Just something that might help liven up the club.

I turned back to the table and took the shockers that had hidden in my bracers off that I had added to give me a boost in a melee attack and dropped them on the table with a heavy clunk, making sure that my omni-tool was still firmly attached. I looked over at Beau and Jurt who had likewise finished putting their weapons on the bench and were looking at me with amused stares. I shrugged and moved over to the turian who was staring at the weapons on the bench with a nonplussed look on his face.

"Uh, right," he said, shaking himself out of his little surprised stupor. "Hold still." He brought up his omni-tool and ran a scan over me, then quickly followed through with the other two. "Right, you're clean. Head on through the door and watch your mouth or you might find it getting shot off."

I didn't even deign to give that a reply just walked through the door. Inside was the little room overlooking the club that had been taken straight from the game. The tables and padded lunges on one side on the lower level with a human guy and an asari sitting down surreptitiously in the corner talking to each other. They were not any concern of mine; probably just hidden bodyguards that were to stay far enough away to not hear but close enough to see and respond. On the other side were the stairs to the higher landing with a couch backing up to the large window overlooking the club. The sound up here was actually a lot quieter than it was down below. I guess that the speakers were a bit more directional than most clubs I had ever been to.

I headed up the stairs to where the lone asari stood looking out over the club, wearing a familiar white jacket and black pants of unknown material. I had to say that her stance was impressive. Without even looking anywhere near us she gave off a 'don't mess with me' vibe just from the way she stood. There were a few prison guards I had known from home that could pull that off but not many of them would have been as intimidating as the tall asari woman was.

The fact that she had a little foursome of batarian guards standing around her didn't bother me. After all, they already know that I am free of anything that can harm her. Not like my fists can do much against her biotics.

I lead the way up the stairs at a casual pace, doing my best to look confident but non-threatening. Not that she was likely to feel threatened but I had an image I was trying to portray.

"That's close enough, Mr Neilson," Aria called out when I was about five metres away, barely on top of the landing.

Her guards immediately responded and aimed their weapons at us as we stopped and stood easily. I looked at the batarian closest to me and gave him a little smirk.

"I have to admit, Ms T'Loak," I said, staring the guard right in the face, "I am a little disappointed. Willing to have blood shed so close to such a fine couch when you had dozens of places you could have done the job on the way up here. Such an unnecessary risk."

She finally turned around and looked me hard in the face. Something I had noticed with all the asari that I had come across here is that their faces all had at least a small level of softness, even the most business-like asari, hell even Malitae, had a face that looked like it had some softness to it. Aria's had none of that softness. It's like she had resting angry face.

Or maybe she was just angry with me for my smartass comment. It was a legitimate possibility.

She fixed me with a calculating glare for a long moment before gesturing to her guards and they lowered their guns. The one I had been looking at stepped forward and ran another scan.

"They're clean," he announced and stepped back, switching off his omni-tool.

I raised an eyebrow. "Don't trust your guys outside to do it right the first time?" I asked curiously.

She eyeballed me again. "Some people think they are smart enough to try," she said, her voice frosty. "Some _are_ smart enough to get past the first one. No one is ever smart enough to get past the second."

I tilted my head in acknowledgement but didn't say anything. She looked at me for another long moment before she moved back to the centre of the couch and sat down. She indicated to the couch with a tilt of her head and I moved over and sat a couple of cushions away from her.

"Stand easy, fellas," I said to Jurt and Beau. "We aren't here to cause trouble. Jurt, go get yourself a drink. Beau, do whatever."

They both nodded and moved back down the stairs. Jurt disappeared through the doorway and Beau stood right next to it, clearly on guard mode.

"Smart," Aria said, leaning back into the cushions behind her. In contrast, I kept myself upright. I wasn't going to look sloppy in a first meeting. "Looks like you aren't just an annoyingly cheerful moron."

I gave her a small smile. "Well, not _only._ "

She gave a smirk and looked over the room. "So, I am a busy person, Mr Neilson and don't have unlimited leisure time," she said, tone all business. "So why don't you tell me why the leader of Shieldstar has decided to grace me with his presence. And why," her face took on a new level of hardness, "someone would risk so much as to demand that I see them straight away. People who make demands of me rarely live long enough to see a result that they were hoping for." Her tone carried the threat clearly.

I gave her a friendly smile and sat back a little, trying to look relaxed. "Ms T'Loak, I believe that there has been an unintentional miscommunication," I said calmly. "I had no intention of forcing a meeting on you and merely hoped to be able to talk to you when you had the time to fit me in. So, thank you for clearing what must be an exhausting schedule to make room to meet with me."

Her expression went from threatening to evaluating before she gave a single nod.

"As to why I am here, there are three things that I was hoping to gain your assistance with," I continued, letting my tone become more business-like. "The first is that I am hoping to conduct some business here on Omega and I would prefer to do so with your acceptance, rather than creating any unnecessary conflict between us."

She tilted her head ever so slightly. "What kind of business?"

"Well, as you may have heard, I recently had a very successful showing of old human vids that were very well received among the Citadel races. I was hoping to be able to do something here on Omega for a short time."

"Yes I heard about that," she said, non-committally. "Some of the turians and krogan mercs had made some noise about some of the old war vids you humans made. And there were plenty of batarians who were rather upset about some of the anti-slave slant on some of the films."

"Yes, I received formal complaints from the batarian ambassador over old vids such as Jango Unchained and Spartacus," I acknowledged easily. "They were baseless of course. The vids were initially only open to critics and any further viewing was done by request. I certainly never forced anyone to watch anything."

"Regardless," she cut in, "this is Omega. There are a lot of people here that would likely object to such controversial vids. I am not going to do anything that makes the people go wild. I don't need the headache."

"You, or someone you trust would have the final say on what vids were shown," I said breezily. "Though, I would hope that I am smart enough to not put on something that would be stupidly antagonistic of any of your residents. Plus a little hired security from the blue suns, or your own forces if you are willing, and any such screenings would hopefully be rather tame, by Omega's standards."

She thought about it for a long moment and nodded. "Send me a list of what vids you want to show here and I will have someone vet it."

I nodded. "And of course, if you were to wish to see any of them, you would be more than welcome to have a private and empty viewing for any vid of your choice." Might as well butter it up for her while I am here.

She snorted and looked away over her office space. "Whatever. Next thing you wanted to talk about?"

I took a deep breath. "I want your help to buy slaves from a batarian slave auction."

That got a reaction. Aria's head jerked back towards me so fast that I was sure I heard a crack and her guards, all of them being batarian, were not much better. She stared at me searchingly for a long moment.

"You would never get in," she said bluntly. "The only humans that see the inside of a slave auction all tend to have a nice shiny collar. Even the Blue Suns and Eclipse aren't allowed to have their human members set foot on those planets."

I nodded. "I am well aware of the difficulties involved," I said evenly. "But that wouldn't be your concern at this stage. There is an auction in nine days on the planet Camala in Hegemony space. I know the detail of where and when. What I would need is a recommendation of someone of repute who would be able to let my people go in and buy the slaves for me I would just need you to tell me when such an auction would take place on a world controlled by the Hegemony…"

"So call an information broker," she interrupted. "There is no need for you to waste my time when you could have got a fake commendation somewhere else."

"True," I agreed. "I could have got the information from any old broker or an old spy from who knows where. But why would I trust them? They all sell secrets for money. I would have no guarantee that they would have any discretion at all, whereas you have somewhat of a reputation of being true to your word when you give it. You know as much on this matter as most information brokers are going to have and if we make a deal and you agree to not tell anyone about it, I know from your reputation that you would keep your word. But the information is only part of the problem. Knowing isn't the hard part and is definitely the only part that an information broker could organise. What I need is far more complicated and is why I came to you. You can't buy your credibility through any random broker."

I had at least a sliver of her attention now as she was no longer staring straight ahead but peering at me out of the corner of her eye. There was a long pause that was only broken by the muted thumping of the bass that came through the speakers out in the club proper. The four batarian guards all exchanged a quick look.

"And what proof do you have that this isn't all just some creative Alliance plot to sabotage the batarians and get out clean by making things more difficult for me?" she asked sceptically, looking at me directly again, her face hard and challenging.

I raised an eyebrow of my own and looked at her drily. "Considering how much resources that you have at hand, I would think that even the idiots in the Alliance would have more than enough sense to try and hurt you that way. I could wax lyrical about how I am not a member of the Alliance, that I am a private individual with more money than most and how I am trying to build a galactic organisation. But even that would be a waste of both of our time because I know that Tevos has already told you everything about me that she knows."

Aria's face tightened ever so slightly. All the proof that I needed to know that I was right on that idea. Of course, from the games I already knew that Aria had a direct line to Tevos, and the research from before had indicated that there had been a pre-existing relationship between the two. I even had suspicions that Liselle, Aria's daughter, was actually Tevos' daughter too but I had no way to confirm that without going to the Shadow Broker. Seeing as I wasn't ready to kill him yet I wasn't planning on doing too much with him directly until I had my cards all together.

"And what makes you think I would have such a friendly relationship with the illustrious councillor?" Aria said, her tone mostly neutral but with a dangerous undertone.

I tilted my head and looked at her dispassionately. "Because her contact information is in your list of priority contacts," I said bluntly. "Because the information brokers who gave me the information showed me the proof of such a relationship. But that actually works in my favour for the purposes of our little chat here."

Aria sat back, her muscles still tense. "And why is that?" she said softly, her voice barely audible above the muted dance music.

I gave her my best winning smile. "Because it means you can check on my dealings and know that I am being honest with you. I am doing a lot of work to build something and it mostly happens in Council space. For the small bits of business I need to conduct here on Omega, you are able to know before I get here that I have no history or deception or threatening. Strong-arming, maybe, but certainly nothing that would threaten your position or that of the councillor. I rather like Tevos and am very happy where she is. I have no reason to want her to lose her job and in all honesty think she is doing pretty well. She is, for the most part, a decent person."

Aria's eyebrow twitched slightly. "'For the most part'?"

I gave a small lopsided smile. "Well, she _is_ a politician. That kinda speaks against her." I sat back, forcing my posture to relax a little despite my hosts aggressive attitude. "But in answer to your earlier question: there will be no deaths attributed to me. I only intend to go to the market, buy slaves with real credits and leave. I won't be attacking anyone or starting other fights. If there is any such action it won't be because I did anything."

The hard expression on the asari's face as she glared at me made me wonder if I had pushed too hard. That… was likely unhealthy for my plans of living.

"What payment do I get out of this?" she snapped. "I don't run a charity."

I nodded. "How about I upgrade some of the defences that you have here as payment? How would you like a pair of GUARDIAN lasers to go with you external defences?"

She leaned back in her chair, her hard face now looking at me with an evaluating expression. "I want five."

I immediately shook my head. "Two. But I will make one of them ultraviolet. That is worth at least three. And it guarantees an introduction to the coordinators of the auction so that I can go to others without you being there."

She narrowed her eyes as she glared at me. "Both of them are ultraviolet."

I shook my head again. "Three, but only one ultraviolet. Final offer. Otherwise I just follow your suggestion and go to a broker. And I let Tevos know how… helpful you were after her recommendation."

If looks alone could kill I doubt I would be more than a smear on the wall after that last Tevos crack. Out of the corner of my eye I can see the batarians shifting a little, clearly reaching for weapons but I don't take my eyes of the asari warlord. I know for a fact that she won't accept weakness and flinching or cowing down would work against me more than I would be able to come back from.

"Deal," Aria finally declared. "But you are going to be taking one of my people with you to make sure you behave. You step a foot out of line, you deal with me." She gave me a vicious grin. "And you don't want me to be the one coming to take you down."

I nod my head in concession, ignoring the threat. "Agreed. Send as many of your people as you want. I will be on my best behaviour. I actually don't want to ruin your reputation with the batarians. After we get back from the slave auction, you will get your GUARDIAN lasers."

She tilted her head in agreement. "And the last thing you wanted?"

I gave her a small smile, putting as much charm into it as I dared. "A gift." I reached into a pouch at my waist and pulled out an OSD as I stood up. A held it aloft so could see what it was.

Her brow ridged furrowed slightly in confusion. "What is it?"

I let my smile grow slightly wider. "As I said, it's a gift. For your DJ." I threw it to one of the batarian guards who snatched it out of the air and inspected it. "After all, I think your music could be a little better."

She stared at me with a flat look that still managed to convey threatening insinuations. "My attendance levels would disagree," she said snippily.

"Maybe, but the gift is yours regardless."

She gave a slow nod, not taking her eyes off me. "If that's all, then I need to get around to calling the auctioneers. I will contact you when I have things in place."

I nodded, recognising the dismissal and headed down the stairs. I felt drained, like I had gone three rounds with a saltwater croc. At the same time, I felt a little relieved that Aria had been willing to give in as much as she had. I must have made more of an impression on Tevos than I realised. That was the only thing that I could think of to work in my favour. I just couldn't see Aria sticking her neck out for me otherwise. I wasn't all that fussed with having to pay for new defences for the station but at least it was something that was hopefully going to give Cerberus some trouble whenever they decided to attack the place. Beau fell into step beside me as I walked out the door to the greeting area where my weapons were still waiting on the table.

Now I just had to hope that Jurt hadn't done anything stupid before we went back to the ship.

…

Aria stared after the human and his little hired muscle as they left trough the front doors, collecting their pet krogan on the way out. She was taking a risk here, she knew, but a calculated one. The human had been right though; if it hadn't been for Tevos calling up and letting her know that the human was coming, this conversation would have been a lot shorter, and he wouldn't have been walking out.

Still, she couldn't deny the human had courage. Misguided, irrational and probably straight-up stupid, but the courage was there.

"Bray," she said, looking to her guard. "Wait an hour and give him the details for what you are going to do for the auction. Then let our contacts know that we have a reliable independent buyer who is going to be sending a representative to this auction. You're going to be with them at the auction to ensure that he doesn't do anything that would risk our goodwill."

"Sure thing, Aria."

He moved off and her guards headed to the bottom of the stairs to give her some privacy. She turned to the table and hit a few buttons on the console. Almost immediately, a familiar face popped up.

"So, how'd it go?" Tevos asked, her voice curious.

Aria smirked slightly. "Well, you were not wrong," she said. "Neilson certainly has a quad on him. Either that or he is too stupid to know that his life is going to end prematurely and violently."

Tevos gave a smirk of her own in return. "Sounds like he made an impression on you too," she said, slyly.

"Only enough to know that you want to meld his brains out," Aria countered, her smirk growing wider.

Tevos immediately flushed. "I don't know what you're talking about!" she objected far too quickly.

Aria's smirk grew to a triumphant grin. "Oh wow, you want him bad!" she crowed. "You only deny knowledge and blush like that when you _really_ like someone. I am surprised that you haven't jumped him already."

Tevos visibly fought against the blush and regained her composure. "I wouldn't have had the option, even if I was interested," Tevos said in a stiff voice. "We have only ever had meetings in my office. Besides," she gave her own sly grin, "if I remember you correctly, he has traits that would find you ready and willing to take him and meld with him until the galaxy could swear you are an Ardat Yakshi in disguise."

Aria gave her own grin of amusement. "Yes, I do remember I had that effect on you," she agreed, remembering their days from decades earlier. "You had the cutest little goofy smile for hours after your legs regained their strength."

"So did you!" Tevos injected indignantly.

"Oh, I know, but I have the reputation of being able to have who I want, when I want. You on the other hand, are the respectful prude of a councillor that hasn't had a public partner in more than a century. Even if we both know that isn't true." She paused for a moment. " _Have_ you been with anyone since we were together?"

Tevos gave a slight smile. "That would be telling," she said playfully. Her smile turned rueful. "But sadly, no. Not since our last tryst sixty or so years ago." She hesitated. "How's Liselle?"

"She's good. It's still hard work making sure that people don't know she is mine but no one has guessed that she is yours too. But she is working hard and people know not to mess with her."

"Good." A chime sounded in the background of the call and Tevos sighed. "I have to go have another meeting with the batarians. Keep me updated on Neilson."

"Sure, I'll let you know how he goes at the slave auction."

Tevos froze. "Wait, _what_?!"

…

 **A/N Please Review and Follow/Favourite as you like.**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N Standard disclaimer**

 **Hello again loyal readers. Thank you for your patience. This chapter has been a long time coming but it is finally here.**

 **One thing I want to address that seems to have caused a little confusion, the SI/OC is not slash. Sorry if that bums some people out but that is not what I see for that character. I would have thought some people would have realised that by now but apparently I made it a little too obscure.**

 **Also, we start going now into the part of the story where things begin to happen. Building is still going on but now it is starting to be mixed with new events. I hope that they live up to your expectations.**

 **Comments:**

 **ZooFan, frankieu, dragonbxl, RIOSHO, Ashborn2271, Praetus Azrael Antairian, Candyking117, kossboss, HoangKimVu, Guest 1 &2, swrWriter, general-joseph-dickson, davycrockett100, Rune Landel – thank you all for your reviews. They help this story stay alive.**

 **CaedmonCousland – thank you for your descriptive review. Glad you like the story. Yeah, maybe I rushed the volus a little but I think it is more of a boost. Besides, it was only a conversation with one volus, not the entire government. And I agree with you, I don't really like it when a character is deliberately made stupid. I prefer to keep characters somewhat realistic…well, as realistic as they can be considering this is a fictional universe.**

 **DahakStaz – Oooh don't want to give too much away on that because it would possibly cause spoilers. Still, I agree with you that the mechs are not what I would have thought would be pinnacle of technology in an advanced civilisation but they won't be the focus of this.**

 **On with the story!**

…

 **CHAPTER 18 – THE SLAVE MARKET**

Garrus looked over dubiously at Chellick. Then he looked back at the sign.

"Really?" he drawled. "This is the one that Bailey told us we should check out?"

"Yeah," the flanged sceptical reply came. "Said we'd thank him for it."

"He does realise that it is _old_ though, right? As in, pre-space colonisation, at least for them. And old stuff like this doesn't usually stand up to the test of time."

"I know Garrus," Chellick sighed. "But he was rather insistent."

Garrus flexed his mandibles in scepticism. The whole thing seemed a bit too pretentious for him, which was saying something when it came to human names.

After all, who names a vid 'Die Hard'?

"Oh well," Garrus said, feeling the twinge of resignation. "Might as well get it over with. At least it will get Bailey off our backs."

"Yeah," Chellick sighed again.

With that, they made their reluctant way into public vid theatre.

Two and a half hours later, they emerged from the darkened theatre back into the artificial daytime provided by the Citadel. Garrus was twitching. Chellick was twitching. They made their way slowly to a café that was barely a hundred metres from the entrance to the vid theatre and sat down without talking. They just sat there for a good five minutes, both staring into space, not even noticing when as asari waitress came over to them to take their orders and left looking slightly alarmed at their behaviour.

"That… that was…," Chellick breathed.

"Yeah," Garrus agreed fervently, almost reverently. "That was…"

"The best cop film of all time!" they finished together.

"The one liners!" Chellick exclaimed.

"The villain!" Garrus blurted.

"The action!"

"The suspense!"

"The stunts!"

"Being able to insult stupid authority figures!"

They sat there, awash with the thrill of the cinematic masterpiece they had just witnessed. Then a traitorous thought popped into Garrus' head.

"There's only one problem," he said slowly.

Chellick's head whipped around to stare at him incredulously. "What could ever be the problem after that… that… glorious monument to policing?!"

Garrus could feel his mandible wilt slightly. "Who has to tell Bailey that he was right?"

"… dammit."

…

Torrin stared at the ongoing scene unfolding before him, feeling a mixture of frustration, nervousness and fear. Not for himself, by any means. It was all on behalf of Brock.

Ever since he had heard what Brock was planning on doing, he had misgivings. He had mistakenly thought that Brock was buying into the whole 'buying slaves' thing for a moment before Brock revealed that they would all be treated and sent home, unless they wanted to go somewhere else. The fact that Torrin could have actually thought something like that about the man who he was quickly beginning to think of as his brother, of sorts, made him feel a little sick. Ever since that day that they had met in the alley Brock had treated Torrin and everyone else around him with respect and decency. He had revealed the truth behind his scars and was now at the point that the human didn't care if he had them on display in the training sessions with Beau or even around the ship. There had been stares to begin with from the other crew members, especially from Nelathie and Chop. Jurt had merely looked impressed. Beau had been happy with the transition from Brock wearing long sleeves and armour that hid the scars all the time. He said that it was a necessary step to making yourself mentally stronger, to show that there is nothing that can defeat you.

"If you hide those parts of yourselves, be it scars or your history of homelessness or anything that you are afraid to show the universe, then those things are tools that can be used against you," the tough human had lectured after a training session that had left Torrin, Brock and Hectar gasping for breath. "If you fear those parts of yourself, then there may a time when they are revealed without intention. If those things you hide from are then thrown back into your face then you can hesitate and hesitation gets yourself and your team killed. The best way to get past it is to own it. Own your history and your scars. Own your torture and use the knowledge that you have gone beyond what you were to what you are. You are stronger from it. If other people find out about those things then it is not the end of the galaxy unless you let it be so. I have seen too many soldiers who freeze at crucial moments because they haven't owned themselves and their history. Doing this is the best way forward. Make peace with yourself and no one can take that from you."

Brock had seemed to take that on board and now seemed to be walking around as though a large weight had been taken off his shoulders. Torrin was trying to do the same. He couldn't help noticing that his back still clenched at the memories of his time as a lab rat for turian military scientists and his abandonment by his parents. Brock was there for him though, as close as any brother that Torrin could think of, helping him through his own history. And Torrin could tell that he had made progress. At least he didn't hunch his shoulders and feel like running away when the topic came up.

However, as accustomed as the crew had become to seeing Brock walking around with his scars on display, Aria's henchman clearly had not.

The moment that Brock appeared, the batarian, Bray, had stopped his talk with Jurt and his eyes, all four of them, locked onto Brock with laser-like intensity.

Brock had come down into the cargo bay, ready to go on his mission to the slave market. Aria had not been joking when she told Brock that as a human the only way to get into the market was as a slave. So Brock decided that was exactly how he was going to go. He had ordered Jurt to find a slave collar, had given the collar to Hectar and told him to make it look perfectly functional while being completely benign. Now, the only things that worked on the collar was the light that said it was activated. The locking mechanism would open up to Brock's fingerprint and the shocking and explosive mechanisms had been removed. It was essentially a paperweight, but it would pass a basic inspection if anyone took a closer look. Someone would have to do a full scan to see that it was missing its slave keeping components.

The real mastery had been Brock's appearance. He had shaved his head, arms and chest of any and all hair and died his eyebrows brown. Then he took an old pair of pants and ripped them to make them look worse. He even had Liserias add more fake scars to his face to distort his appearance even more. Now he truly looked pathetic as he made his way shirtless over to the waiting party. His hunched walking limp just added to the image of abused slave. The only thing that he had on him that would mark him different to other slaves was the omni-tool on his arm. It was an older, cheap model that had Hectar's anti-hacking program added to it. The sole purpose for the device was to hold some money to be able to buy slaves.

Bray had stared at him for a long few minutes as he stood silently next to the large passenger shuttle that would be taking him, Brock and a fully armoured Jurt to Camala for the auction. There was room enough for sixty people on board, seventy if they were squished together, and it would serve as the transport for any slaves that Brock managed to buy at the market.

Brock ignored Bray and Torrin couldn't help feeling that this situation of not letting your scars own you was exactly what Beau had been talking about in their training. Torrin felt a little jealous that he wasn't at that point yet. But then, Brock was a little older so maybe he had a little more practice at it.

Brock sidled over to where Torrin was standing. "You think you can avoid burning the gym while I'm gone?" he said lightly.

Torrin mock glared at his friend. "That was one time!" he growled. "And it was only a little fire! Not my fault that Beau was using explosive rounds."

"Yeah, but it's not like he told you to stack the boxes next to the flammable lubricants and the wooden supports…"

"Shut up!" he glared at the human's amused face for a moment. Then they both chuckled together.

"We'll be fine," Torrin assured him. "Besides, I'm not the one going into hostile territory." He clenched his mandibles slightly. "You and Jurt are the ones that need to be careful."

"And we will be," Brock replied. "Trust me enough to know that I am going to be doing my best to stay safe out there. Even if I have to have Aria's pet batarian over there." He gestured towards the shuttle that Bray was leaning next to. "I can trust that Aria is at least self-serving enough to wait until she receives her payment from us before she would stab us in the back. That asari is as mercenary as it gets. And her minion over there wouldn't dare act in any way that would upset his boss. So, unless something goes horribly, horribly wrong at this auction, I should be pretty safe."

Torrin couldn't help looking at the inert slave collar on his friend's neck. "Uh huh."

Brock gave him another tight grin. "You just take care of the team while I am gone. And don't let Ely near the dextro Red Bull while I am gone. Last time she declared herself a quarian fairy and tried flying over the eezo core."

Torrin couldn't help laughing at that mental image. The young quarian was a good source of laughs that way.

Aleria walked over, looking almost as nervous as Torrin had felt before Brock's talk helped him relax a little. "It's time for you to go, Boss," she said, her voice small. Torrin couldn't help feeling a little sorry for the pilot. She almost looked like she was about to cry out of concern for Brock. Torrin knew she liked the human a lot. She must have really been freaking out a little and holding back a lot.

Brock took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Alright," he nodded at Aleria. "Guess that's my cue."

Aleria threw her arms around Brock in a big hug, holding him close. Torrin couldn't help but feeling like he was going to be spending the next few hours trying to reassure her that everything was going to be fine, even though he really wasn't able to back that up in any way shape or form. That and finding a way to stop Ely from getting into the energy drinks. Maybe he would be able to convince the two of them to watch that second Star Wars film, Empire something. At least, Brock said it was the second film. Torrin had looked into it and apparently it was the fifth film but Brock claimed that the first three didn't count for some reason.

"Come on, human," Bray called out in his gruff voice. "Time to leave. And you don't want to ruin those fake scars of yours before we get there."

Brock untangled himself from Aleria and turned to face the batarian with a stony expression that had Torrin feeling a little nervous. He watched as Brock took a few deliberate steps towards the batarian merc, stopping a couple of metres away. The human then brought up his hands, spat in them and began to rub vigorously over the scars on his arms, chest, stomach and shoulders. He rubbed so hard that the skin started to turn an angry red before he finally stopped.

"Well, would you look at that?" Brock said, not looking away from the batarian the entire time. "None of those scars rubbed off. I guess that they must be real."

The human then stepped passed the batarian and into the shuttle without another word, leaving the merc blinking his four eyes in stunned surprise.

"You know," Jurt rumbled as the krogan made his own way into the shuttle, "I thought Aria hired smarter people. Guess we were both wrong." With that, the heavy alien jumped into the shuttle, leaving Torrin fighting a vindictive grin at the now glaring batarian.

…

Camala was a world that I had come to learn as being the batarians stronghold for eezo. They had the most mines here and all of the processing facilities. As a result, they also had the most security here of all the planets in Hegemony space, except for Khar'shan. I looked through the viewport of the passenger shuttle that I had bought specifically for this market and could see the batarian fleet moving around the planet's orbit, standing on guard for the many visitors they were no doubt receiving today for the auction. There were hundreds of ships floating through the inky blackness, mostly visible from here as bright lights from engine ports as they manoeuvred around each other and avoided the two visible dreadnoughts that were standing like boulders in a river; they stood still while everything else moved around them.

The planet itself was nothing like what I had expected. To be honest, the image that comes to mind when I think of batarians is red wastelands and ugly, polluted homes. Instead, the planet was an interesting mix of greens, blues and purples, with a few dusky reds scattered around the place. It was actually very impressive and would make a great postcard, if they were still a thing. It was extremely beautiful to see from orbit.

A shuffling next to me announced the presence of both Bray and Jurt. Bray hadn't spoken to me at all other than to learn about the plan that I had made for him to keep me safe. As he had told me, once he stopped staring blatantly at my scars was that 'I'm here for Aria and to make sure you don't screw things up for her.' Nothing friendlier than that. Still, Jurt had enough experience with slave markets to know what to expect and had answered plenty of my questions.

I would be going in as a slave representative of a wealthy turian who lived in the Terminus systems. I had considered a batarian but Jurt thought that any batarian that would have the spare cash to throw around to buy a big number of slaves wouldn't be an unknown to someone likely to be at the market. A turian, however, could be a random merc that managed to earn enough credits to retire in the Terminus with a healthy number of slaves to make their lives easier. Going as a representative wasn't actually a problem; most of the wealthier batarian nobles sent a proxy to buy their slaves. After all, going and buying their own slaves was beneath them. They would all be sending representatives but it was a rare thing that one of the representatives would be a slave. Still, it did happen from time to time so while I would get a few looks, it was unlikely that anyone would actually approach me for any particular reason after I signed in. The main thing was that I was trying to look as pathetic as possible. I knew with my scars I would be able to pass off as the beaten slave but I had to make sure that my behaviour reflected that image.

The shuttle, flown by a quiet turian pilot provided by Aria, made its final approach I moved over in my put-on hunched shuffle towards the exit. Jurt and Bray moved to stand next to me. I had been told that it was unusual for a slave to stand next to another being as an equal but, surprisingly, Bray spoke up and said that it was proper for me to do so as the 'representative' of my master. The only thing I wasn't to do was walk off by myself without my 'handlers' or to approach any non-merchant without a specialised request. Apparently there was a whole etiquette to approaching slaves in batarian culture that most people didn't know about. Jurt, being the person on my crew that was most familiar with batarians due to his mercenary history, had done his best to teach me what he knew on the flight over and Bray only stepped in once or twice to make small corrections. He had only done so to, as he said, 'make sure I don't give myself away and get all of us killed.

"Hey, Jurt," I said in a soft tone as the shuttle came slowly to a hissing stop. "What would happen if I was just to buy every single slave here and take them back?"

"Not a good idea," he grunted back. "It would draw too much attention."

"He's right," Bray cut in. "There will be representatives from some very powerful members of the Hegemony here. If someone was to buy them all, I doubt that you would have the chance to leave Hegemony space alive."

"So how many could I reasonably get?" I asked quietly as the shuttle fell silent and the airlock door opened with a hiss. "Without drawing attention to myself."

"I would say no more than fifty," Bray said as the docking bay came into open view. "Any more than that and you would risk someone becoming overly suspicious. It is not unheard of to buy up to a hundred but the ones that do are exclusively batarian nobles. As you are representing a turian, you are expected to have limits and acknowledge a noble's interest as being higher than your own."

"Any way around that?" I asked as we moved out into the unexpectedly pleasant sunshine.

"Not really," Bray said, keeping his voice low. "The best way would be to get in and pay the instant purchase price on the auction items and get out before anyone can complain."

I nodded as I related it to what I knew in my head. Kinda like using eBay. Only with slaves. So Craigslist.

A batarian was approaching us as we made our way down the docking bay platform. A few batarians went silent as I walked past, their eyes fixated on my slow shuffling walk before they returned to their conversations.

"Are you here for the auction?" the functionary asked Bray in a neutral tone.

"They are," Bray replied, gesturing to Jurt and me with a careless hand. I made sure to flinch slightly as his hand came near me. "I am here on behalf of Aria T'Loak to introduce them and give them a reference."

"Ah, of course," the official said, tilting his head to the left in a sign of respect of Bray. "And you are?" he asked, turning to Jurt.

"Name's Murek," Jurt grunted. "The slave here is the representative of Nixus Arcemedes. I'm just security."

"Of course," the batarian said, making a note on his omni-tool. "And what your name, Slave?" his voice became extremely hostile at that. Clearly he didn't like having to address one of a lower stature than his own.

I gave a low bow. "Master says this one's name is Worm, sir," I rasped out in a mewling tone. I made sure that at no point did I look him in the eyes. That was a big no for a slave to a free batarian.

A grunt came from the batarian and he made another note on his omni-tool.

"Make sure you check any weapons in at the entrance of the marketplace," the batarian said to Bray and Jurt, his tone returning to normal. "Have a profitable day."

We moved on towards the location of the auction, which luckily was only a ten minute walk from the docking bay. I couldn't help but stare as I walked around, not expecting things to be as pleasant as they were. In fact, if it were not for the obvious slaves wearing collars going all over the place and mostly following batarian citizens, it would be as pleasant as a walk on any other planet. There wasn't any obvious signs of homelessness or poverty. Slaves were not being flogged in the clean streets. In fact, they were mostly ignored. I gathered a few curious looks from the free batarians, most likely because of my scars. The slaves did have a mostly broken or defeated expression and stance to them but I there were not many that had visible scars like I did. All of them appeared clean and were not suffering from malnourishment. They were all clothed sufficiently; in fact, I was the only one walking around without a shirt. I got a few looks from some of the batarian slaves that I hesitantly guessed were sympathetic, though I was still not overly familiar with batarian facial expressions.

My surprise at how well-groomed was must have been obvious because Bray leaned in and whispered to me.

"Not like what the propaganda describes, is it?" he said, his voice slightly amused.

"No," I said in my fake raspy voice. "Are all slaves as well taken care of?"

"No," he acknowledged. "Camala and Khar'shan are the only places where you will see them looking like this in public. You need to remember, while slaves are captured, bought and sold, they are still very valuable property. Only the highly sadistic and excessively rich nobles are likely to beat and kill their slaves without a second thought. Would you destroy a diamond necklace for no reason? You bought it, it was expensive and it serves a purpose. Damaging it would ruin its value. The same is true for slaves. A starving slave is less useful than a well-fed one. A broken slave is necessary, but too far and it is damaged and therefore less useful and less valuable. But like I said, this truth is really only widespread here on Camala or on Khar'shan. People here have more respect for their possessions and more money to ensure that their slaves are taken care of. It's a matter of pride here."

I gave a grunt of acknowledgement and filed that away in my mind as another thing I had not truly understood about batarian culture. After all, considering how some people took extreme pride in having a highly polished car, motorbike or boat, I guess it wasn't too hard to imagine that there were batarians who might consider a well-kept slave as a sign of pride in their possessions. It was just the fact that those possessions were also living, breathing people who had most likely never wanted to be a possession in the first place and had no say in the matter that was the issue.

We made the rest of the walk in silence. When we arrived at the location, I saw that the market was being held inside of a giant warehouse. The place was massive, more than half as big as the _Enterprise'_ s cargo hold. I hadn't come across any land bound warehouses in human space that were as large as this place was. We registered with the Hegemony representatives at the entrance where Bray was able to give us the reference that Aria had promised us. The guards accepted it with an interested tone so I guess that Aria giving a recommendation was not a common occurrence. Once again I could feel the guards giving me sneering looks as they openly stared at my scars. They even informed 'my handlers' that for a small fee I could rent a space where I could hold my 'purchases' until we were ready to leave. Seeing as I intended to be here for the whole day until closing time, Jurt agreed on my behalf. We were given a pen number so that we could have our purchases delivered to it at the back of the warehouse to pick up when we were done. The functionary left us to face the next prospective buyers and Jurt leaned ever so slightly towards me.

"Just remember," he whispered, not looking at me directly, "we won't be able to talk to you too much. It would look odd if a slave was too talkative to their handler. We will be able to help you with any major problems but regular talking is out of the question."

I nodded my acceptance. Then we went inside.

I had to admit, I was three for three on things that surprised me for how the batarians ran this place. Instead of having their slaves in animal pens and cages, like I had inspected, all the slaves were cleaned up and set on little stage platforms that could be compared to, rather generously, stalls and vendors of any normal marketplace on the citadel. The slaves were all lined up side by side on their stages, with a few security guards to each stage to prevent any incidents. In front of the stages were little computer terminals that would give the description of each slave that was being offered. Larger organisations, such as the Blood Pack and Blue Suns were given larger stages to accurately reflect the amount of slaves that they had up for auction. There were even some small stalls that were set up so that private sellers would be able to sell their own 'pre-existing' slaves that they no longer wanted. Strangely enough, I didn't see a platform for the Eclipse Security Group.

"Why would a slave owner get rid of their own slaves that way?" I had asked Bray when we stepped into a quiet place away from other buyers, making sure I kept up with using my raspy voice. The idea that I could think that so casually disturbed me a little.

Bray shrugged slightly. "Depends," he said, not looking at me. "Sometimes it is to cover debts, other times it is to get rid of a troublesome slave and the owners believe that they could make money out of selling it instead of just killing it. Most of the time though, it is because an owner is getting older and they want to downscale their property. They can't be bothered managing a large amount of slaves anymore so they keep their favourites and sell the rest. It happens more often than you would think. But you don't have to worry about being cheated by having people lie about why they sell their own slaves. They must be honest as to why they are selling pre-owned slaves or they can face harsh penalties and even expulsion from Hegemon society."

With that question answered we stepped back out amongst the sellers. My heart went out to all the children that were on display. Not only the humans, but there were plenty of asari, salarians, batarians and even a couple of turians too. I could feel my hands shaking with disgust as I realised that I could help these innocent children but at the expense of being able to accomplish other goals. It was a massive internal conflict. And I hated myself for knowing that I wouldn't be buying many, if any, of those children today. Luckily, there were other things that I had planned for this. It was a small comfort, but I had to stop and take a couple of deep breaths to calm myself down. I suddenly had far more sympathy for spies and secret agents who had to deal with this drama every day. There were possibly even some sympathisers for the Free Batarian movement here at the auction that were feeling the same way that I was feeling now.

I just felt sick.

I clamped down on the surging bile and started to make my way through the crowds to the stalls. I made sure to not look anyone other than slaves in the eye. The frightened and dead looks that were in the eyes of many of the slaves was just adding to my sickened feeling. I almost wished that this place had met my low expectations so that I could hate them even more. But the place ran with the sort of fluid efficiency of any regular shopping centre.

I stopped at the stall of a private owner and saw what looked to be an asari matriarch on the stage. I tapped at the screen and saw that she had once been an ambassador of Lesuss to the hanar when she had been captured on a trip out of Illium. The only name given was Persei. She had been owned for nearly eighty years by the same batarian noble family and was being sold due to the noble having lost business on Khar'shan and downsizing. It concerned me a little that an asari politician of high enough standing to be an ambassador could just be forgotten or abandoned as she had obviously been. She was advertised as a good bed slave and a decent cook. Clearly not the best though if she was being sold on. Still, she was someone that might be able to help me. If she was willing that is. Not that I could find that out now.

I turned to the guard manning her stage. "This one asks her age," I rasped to the batarian guard, with a deep bow.

The guard turned to her, clearly allowing her to answer the question. "I am eight hundred and three," she replied in a soft voice.

Without acknowledging her words I turned back to the monitor and looked at the 'buy now' price. Three hundred and twelve thousand credits, though it would likely have been more if she was younger as asari could be kept as slave for centuries due to their longevity. Easily affordable. I had nearly fifty million creditd to play with here today.

I tapped the 'buy now' option. Then I linked up my cheap-looking omni-tool and paid for Persei. She looked over at me with a resigned look on her face before she looked down at my scars with blatant unease. With another deep bow I informed the guards of the pen that she could be held in until we were ready to leave.

I moved on towards the Blood Pack stage. There were nearly sixty different slave on offer here. I flipped through a few bios and noticed two pilots on offer. I looked up at the selected slaves and walked over towards them. A krogan guard stepped to prevent me from getting too close.

"What do you want, maggot?" the krogan growled at me.

Jurt took a step forward and got right in the Blood Pack merc's face. "That's my boss's rep, moron. Treat it with the proper respect."

The merc grunted but took a step back. "Fine," he grumbled. "What do you want, representative?" He still made it sound like an insult.

"Master told this one that pilots are needed," I rasped out with my customary low bow. "You are selling two. The salarian over there and the asari over there." I gestured towards the two slaves in question.

The merc turned and looked at the slaves and pointed. They quickly scurried over and stood next to him, looking at the floor. "These the ones?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Alright, well the salarian would be standard fare, pretty cheap because they don't last long, damned squishies," he said, his tone turning all business. "The asari will be expensive though. She is only just outta her maiden years so she will do a family good for quite a few centuries yet."

"If purchased, there will be no trouble with seekers?"

"Seekers?"

"Master told of seekers who would look to recover slaves," I lied. I actually wanted to know to see if there was any family I could return them to if they chose not to help me.

The krogan just shrugged. "Who knows?" he said. "We only got 'em a few months ago. The salarian is unlikely and the asari was only working on a mining frigate out in the Terminus so I doubt it."

I nodded. Unlikely then. At least, no one important in Council space. I wouldn't count it out though. Honestly though, I had already decided to buy both of them. I was just wondering what the odds were of them wanting to stay with me and become pilots of some of the ships that I would be buying when I expanded my fleet. If they wanted to leave, they would be free to do so.

I walked to the terminal and looked up the 'buy now' prices. Like the krogan had said, the salarian, whose name was Lerek, was pretty cheap, only thirty thousand credits. The asari, Mirae, was six hundred thousand. The problem was that it meant she had nearly eight hundred years in front of her as, most likely, a sex slave. No one deserved that. I looked back up at the line of slaves on the stage and saw three human kids and two very young asari. I didn't even bother looking up the purchases prices. I bought all seven of the slaves I looked at.

"Huh," the Blood Pack merc huffed in surprise. "Well, it's your credits I guess. Just put the money through and tell me where you want them."

This time, as I transferred the money, I transferred something else that I had Hectar whip up while we were preparing for this. It was a tracer designed to appear like a single credit. It would burrow through the system and get me all of the information on the buyers that it could, including the personal information for anyone that accessed the terminal with their omni-tool. That included the slavers themselves. I would get addresses and about twenty four hours of physical tracking of the omni-tools when they left the auction. It would hopefully give me plenty of information that I would need for the next part of my plans.

The most useful part of it would be the fact that one most people's personal omni-tools, they had their home information on them. The tracer program would collect that information and when the time limit nearly expired it would send out all gathered information in a burst of static that would register as a glitch. I had no idea how useful that would be for slavers and mercs but I was willing to give it a shot. It would work for slave owners that were registering though as they all had a fixed address that would be easy enough to find. The problem was that there was only so much data that could be compacted into the single 'credit' and that ran out after the twenty four hours so it needed to transmit by then. Any merc that travelled longer than that to get away would only give us vague details which might not be enough to find specific bases. Still, it was better than nothing.

Once the money transfer took place I shuffled closer to the krogan merc, trying to come across as pathetically conspiratorial. "This one also asks if there are any among your merchandise that are more… defiant," I rasped uneasily. "Master prefers to have a… personal touch in taming us to his satisfaction." I made sure to rub against the burn mark on my stomach, making it seem as if it was subconscious. I suddenly found myself wishing I had done better in drama classes in school.

It was enough to convince the krogan though. The alien gave me a big toothy grin. "Sounds like my kinda guy," he chuckled maliciously. "As a matter of fact, there are three here that have been a little more troublesome. Apparently, they are still pretty objectional to being slaves. A couple of turians and a human. All of them were guards on one of the hits we did. They've been causing a little trouble since we got 'em. Had to separate them coz they were trying to stir up trouble. Had to use the shock collars more than a few times but they haven't quit. That the sort of type your boss would want?"

"Yes," I bowed low. "Master would be very happy to have those slaves added to his complement. For a reduced rate for needing to have to do half the work himself."

"Hmmm," the krogan tilted his head thoughtfully. "I guess that we could drop the prices for those three. It would probably be hard enough to sell them, considering how rebellious they are."

He named a price for the three about a hundred thousand credits below what they normally would have been and I paid it without complaint. The ten 'purchases' were then organised to be sent to the holding pen to await pick-up with Persei and any others that I would buy.

Honestly, if it wasn't for the fact that I was planning on releasing the people I bought, I didn't think I would be able to live with myself after that thought.

I scanned through the next few groups and picked up another shuttle pilot, a few more children of various races and a dozen random other slaves that had been captured by smaller merc gangs. All of them looked like they had had their wills broken. I doubted that they would be willing to work for me without a lot of therapy. Even then, if they had families to return to, I thought it more likely that they would just rather go home. Regardless, I made sure that I sent along the little tracer program into the terminals for good measure.

The Blue Suns stage was even larger than the Blood Pack stage. There were certainly more slaves for sale there and the variety was greater. There was even two quarians for sale here. I quickly brought up the terminal and took a look. I was very happy with my three quarians but they had a certain proclivity towards maintenance and engineering. At the same time, I was hoping to have some goodwill in the bank for when I needed to contact the Migrant Fleet for that part of my plans. I was surprised for a second as I saw that the 'buy now' price was nearly the same as that of the asari maidens. I figured because of their renowned skill in using tech that they would be highly sought after but I had thought that due to their highly fragile immune system and the extra care needed to keep them alive it would drop the price a little. Apparently not. Either way, I bought both of them and another twelve slaves at random, including one human child and an adult volus. I figured I would try to get a bit of goodwill from the volus ambassador while I was doing my thing. I mean, I had already bought a shipyard from the man, now I could show my humanitarian side. Show that I cared for more than myself and other humans. Hopefully that would leave him with a better impression than what Udina was giving him. Sadly, there no 'feisty' slaves for sale on their stage.

It was as I was moving away from the large stage dedicated to the Blue Suns that something went wrong.

Someone had left a small crate, barely larger than a footlocker, on the floor. Another buyer, a batarian, was walking passed and tripped over it. They stumbled into Bray, who bumped into me. I was then pushed into a passing batarian who was dressed in a cloak that denoted minor nobility. He then dropped a data-slate that he was carrying.

Crap.

Immediately, the batarian was screaming in my face. "How _dare_ you, filth!" he bellowed, not caring for the spittle that was flying out of his gob. "Look at what you have done you pathetic waste of bile! If you were my slave, I would gut you and use your entails to feed swine! You are not even worthy of your eyes, you disgusting creature. I should kill you right now!"

I tried my best to make myself small and refusing to look him in the face. I knew that I had no power here. The only thing that would work in my favour was that the batarian wouldn't actually do anything to me personally. After all, I was someone else's property. That was something that Bray and Jurt had clued me in on during the trip towards the market. Just like I would not break someone's TV, they would not kill someone else's slave.

"I demand satisfaction!" the minor noble continued screeching. I felt my stomach twist slightly. In making all the plans I could for this market, I had prepared for this possibility, with Jurt's help. It didn't mean that I wanted to do it.

"You demand satisfaction, huh?" Jurt rumbled to my relief, stepping forward as if my thoughts were capable of summoning him. "What do you have in mind?"

"Punishment," the batarian bit out, glaring down at me. "And compensation for damaging my data-slate." A large crowd had gathered to watch the spectacle now. From the corner of my eyes I could see that several guards had pushed their way through to see what was happening but they were content to watch the show, it seemed.

I wilted just a little more. Of course. Of course the person that I bumped in to had to be a noble that wanted me to be 'punished'. I didn't fail to notice that even though Bray had been the one that bumped me, he wasn't speaking up at all.

That was going to earn no small amount of retribution. Aria being his boss be damned. I would have to pay her back a little. Luckily, I was sure that there was something I could do

"Right," Jurt grunted. He reached to his side and pulled out a small calibre pistol. The thing looked tiny in his massive claw. "Normally, his owner would prefer to be the one that would dish out the punishment. However, I think under the current circumstances, he would be willing to make an exception." He turned and looked at the guards. "Be as ready as you want to be, but I can promise you that Worm here is the only one that is going to be getting hurt."

He looked back to me and held out the pistol. "You know what you have to do."

I looked at the pistol, not needing to hide my apprehension. I sighed in resignation. "Yes, sir."

Slowly, as to not alarm the guards that were now clearly on alert, I reached out my right hand to take the pistol our of Jurt's three fingered hand. I could see the guards tense and one of them drew his weapon. I slowly brought the muzzle of the pistol directly into the palm of my left hand, tilting my hand so that the back was facing the ground. Then I took a wavering breath and pulled the trigger.

The bang of the pistol was met with the instant jarring pain of the miniscule projectile blasting its way through my skin, out the back of my hand and smashing through to the floor. I hunched over as I grit my teeth against the pain, which was slowly dropping to a more manageable level. In all honesty, I think getting stabbed was worse. Branding certainly was more painful and the effects lasted longer. As I took a few deep breaths to help steady myself I passed the pistol back to Jurt. "Thank you, sir," I rasped through my clenched jaw.

A guffaw came from one of the guards that led to a few of the other spectators chuckling out loud.

"He thanked you for that?" an incredulous voice asked from someone I didn't see.

"He knows that it would have been worse if we had waited to get back to his master for punishment," Jurt explained. "I mean, take a look at him. Letting him do this himself was a mercy."

A familiar krogan nearby gave a barking laugh. "Now I _really_ want to meet this guy!"

I could see a small puddle of my blood on the ground from my still dripping hand. I reached out with my good hand to the right leg of my trousers. I fumbled a bit because I was trying to do it one handed but I managed to rip off a small strip of material that then used to wrap up my injured hand. I then looked around and saw one of the warehouse personnel who had come over to watch. I shuffled over to her.

"Pardon this one for speaking to you, ma'am," I said in my pained rasp. "But are there cleaning supplies so that I may remove my mess?" I gestured to the blood on the floor with my good hand.

"In a storage room over there, slave," she spat. "Waster will take you." She waved over a batarian slave who had been watching the whole incident quietly from an inconspicuous place by the wall.

"Wait!" the noble barked. "I am still waiting for my compensation!"

Oh, I was really not liking this guy. His voice was beginning to grate on my nerves but I forced myself to calm down and shuffled towards him. I could only imagine that a slave abusing a noble, even a minor one, would be grounds for him overlooking the rule about not killing someone else's slave.

"Hold up," Jurt said. "Your master won't be happy with you getting any more blood over the place. Use this first." He handed me a small tube of medigel.

I bit the top off the tube, unwrapped my bloody makeshift bandage and applied the gel on my gunshot wound. I breathed a small sigh of relief as the numbing qualities took the persistent throbbing away and the clotting agents stopped the bleeding immediately. In no time at all, the healing was well under way and I could use my hand again, providing more relief than I would have expected.

With the hole in my hand taken care of I opened my omni-tool and transferred a thousand credits and the tracing program into the noble's omni-tool. The data-slate wasn't damaged at all and even if it was then it wouldn't have cost anywhere near that much but I thought by being generous it would take the heat of me. If he was a Camala native I probably wouldn't be able to do much, but I _really_ hoped that he wasn't from either here or Khar'shan so that I could arrange another meeting.

"This one give it's unworthy apologies and wishes you clear sight for the rest of your days," I mewled out in the most pathetic tone I could manage while tilting my head as far to the left as I could and keeping my eyes on the ground. I kinda guessed the polite wishes about the eyes. I remembered hearing somewhere that the eyes were a really big thing to the batarians. Something about them believing that they were better than every other race because they were the only Citadel race that had four eyes, like the protheans did. That kind of ignored either the vorcha and the yagh but neither of them were Citadel races so I guess they were not included. Then again, I don't really remember how many eyes exactly they had so it might have been just the batarians with four.

Regardless, with one last huff the noble turned around and marched away, stopping only long enough to take the data-slate that the slave Waster had picked up and held out to him. With his disappearance, it was the signal to all the spectators that the incident was over and they began to disperse and move back towards the stages. I looked around and noticed that plenty of the slaves were looking at me with a mix of pity and despair. The ones from the Blue Suns stage that I had just bought, that had not been taken away yet as the guards for that stage had decided to watch the show, were staring at me in muted horror as they began to realise what their fate was likely to be with their new master.

I couldn't help feeling a little amused at how I thought they would react when they found out they had all been fooled but I looked down to hide the small smile that wanted to break through at the idea.

It took me a few minutes of cleaning up my blood and tissue before I was happy that my DNA wouldn't be just left around. By the time I was done, only the officials were still watching me as I put away the cleaning supplies. With that done I moved back to where Jurt was standing. I mentally tallied how many slaves I had bought to this point. Forty one. Not as many as I hoped.

"After that little display, do you think anyone would be willing to still sell to us?" I murmured, keeping my voice low enough to not be overheard by anyone other than my two minders.

"Maybe one or two of the smaller private sales but I doubt that you would get anything from the major buyers," Bray replied just as softly. "Might be a good idea to call it and get out with what you have."

"Alright," I said, catching myself before I nodded. "Let's head back to the entrance and organise a drop off of our purchases to the ship. If there are any single sales on the way out we can grab them as we go."

We made for the exit and picked up two more slaves, a reedy looking human male and a salarian female, on the way out. We got these two to follow us out seeing as there was no reason to stick around any longer.

We made our way back to our passenger shuttle and arrived about five minutes before a vehicle that looked suspiciously like a prison bus rocked up and the slaves I had bought started to climb out. A batarian guard made a point to give the control for the slave collars to Jurt and in a voice loud enough to be heard by everyone at the landing platform that the two turians would likely need a good shock to stop them causing more trouble, earning him twin glares from the turian slaves.

Without further comment the slaves trudged through the airlock and into the vessel proper, following Jurt. Once they were all inside, Bray and I left with a deep bow to the batarian officials and headed into the shuttle.

…

The shuttle finally docked in the Hidden Enterprise and Jurt stood, glad that this little jaunt was over.

He had been uneasy about going to Camala to the slave auction. His biggest concern had been that he might run into some Blood Pack members that he knew and owed a shotgun blast to face to. If he had seen any of them, he didn't think he could stop himself going into a blood rage, which would not have ended until he and a large number of people were dead. The problem was that it needed to be him that went because no one else in Neilson's crew knew enough about slave markets to be useful, and Neilson was smart enough to not trust Bray to look out for him on his own. Not bad, for a squishy.

There hadn't been any trouble though. He didn't know any of the mercs that had been there. He might have recognised one of the Blue Suns from the old days but he honestly didn't care enough to find out. The slaves hadn't even kicked up a fuss on the trip back to the ship. One of the turians looked like he was about to kick up a fuss but stopped when Jurt had stomped over and held up the remote for the shock collar. Wimp.

He noticed Neilson stand up straight for the first time since they arrived on Camala. The human stretched his back, releasing an audible pop.

"Ah, that feels better!" he declared happily in his normal voice, drawing confused stares and uncertain looks from the gathered slaves. "All right! If everyone can please make their way off the shuttle and gather together just outside in the cargo bay and I can explain a few things. Oh, but first!" He pressed a button on his slave collar and it popped open, letting him take it off and throw it off to the side. Jurt couldn't help feeling amused at the stunned looks of all the slaves present. "Ok, now, out you go!"

The slaves filed out obediently, though one of the humans and both of the turians were glaring suspiciously at Neilson as they passed him. Aria's pet batarian started making his way out the door too but Neilson held out his arm to stop him.

"I want a quick word with you two before we go out there," he said, his smile, turning a little frosty. For some reason he couldn't explain, Jurt felt his mouth grow into a toothy grin.

The last of the slaves piled out of the airlock and moved out of sight. Neilson looked out after them. "That's right just move over there, I will be with you in a moment. Don't wander off, just stay right there. Liserias there is a medic and she is going to take a quick look at you all to make sure that everything is fine. Just listen to her and when she is done, make sure you don't leave the area." Huh. He hadn't seen the medic through the viewport. Only the turian kid and the pilot. Must have been hiding somewhere out of the way.

He pulled his head back in the door and walked over next to the batarian. He looked him right in the eye. Then, almost faster than Jurt could see, he threw a vicious punch into the batarian's jaw.

The four-eyed alien dropped to the ground a few feet back from where he had been standing. "What the hell are you doing _human_?" the batarian spat, slowly climbing back to his feet. "Aria will…"

"Yes, I imagine we are going to have a few interesting things to say to Aria," Neilson cut him off, glaring down at the man in front of him in disgust. "In fact, we are going there very soon. I am sure that she would love to hear about your behaviour and how you failed her as her agent." He looked up at Jurt. "Knock him out for me, would you?"

Jurt couldn't help giving off a 'hah!' of amusement before he stomped over and gave the batarian a backhand that put him down. This time, Bray didn't get back up.

"He wasn't wrong though," Jurt said, looking up at the human. "Aria won't like you punching one of her personal bodyguards."

"No, I imagine not," Neilson said, his tone not particularly impressed. "But I can talk her out of any retribution." The human got what Jurt could only call a sly smile on his face. "In fact, she may even thank me for it."

Jurt started chuckling again. "You got one hell of a quad, Neilson," he grinned at his employer. "Must be why I listen to you."

"Ha! Thanks," Neilson said easily. "For what it's worth, I like having you on the crew too. Now, do me a favour and strip him of weapons and his omni-tool and take him to the brig. I still need to let our new friends know of their surprise freedom. And I will give you a bonus for knocking Bray out with a single backhand."

Jurt couldn't help chuckling to himself and turned to his task as the human left the shuttle. Yeah, he really was starting to like this human. Maybe it meant that Jurt could get Polisa sooner instead of later.

…

 **A/N Please Review/Favourite/Follow as you please.**

 **Yeah, I know some interesting stuff is happening. I haven't ever actually read a story that had an infiltration into a slave market in the ME Fanfics so I wanted to do it. At the same time, I didn't want to go into it with the same sort of feeling as if the slave had just been captured, beaten etc. and taken straight to market. They consider people to be property and when you sell property, you try and make it look as nice, clean and appealing as possible. So, I tried this as a farmer's market for slaves and this chapter is what I ended up with. At the same time, can't infiltrate a slave market without at least a little hiccup, hence the confrontation with the noble. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. See you next time!**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N Standard disclaimer. Don't really think I need to do the whole thing by now.**

 **Hello dear readers. Thanks for your patience. University life is stupidly busy but I think you will be happy to know that I reckless ignored my assignments to get this chapter done. I reckon I am going to be paying for that later but for now, meh.**

 **So most of you enjoyed the slave market scene. Good to know. It was the first thing that I did that actually felt completely new in this story, as in, I had never seen anyone else do it before. So I am glad that it worked out. And the little bit with Garrus and Chellick seeing Die Hard, I could help but enjoy writing that in. I love that movie and I reckon that a person like Garrus would enjoy it too.**

 **Comments:**

 **Thank you too all the reviewers. I read every review and even though I don't reply directly, I appreciate each and every single one of them.**

 **Deadtrooper – yeah you were one of my first followers. Thanks for sticking with me. Glad that I am keeping you interested. I thought of Gollum as I did it so based it off that a little.**

 **Pteaset – wow. Thank you for binging on the story and reviewing every chapter. I am glad that you liked it. Welcome aboard.**

 **Blueowl – wow I am glad that you are feeling for the whole crew. That's what I was going for and thank you for letting me know it was working.**

 **Jotun – thanks for the ideas. Maybe something to work with. Will have to see how it goes later on. I think I can incorporate some of it for the later stuff though.**

 **Dahakstaz – yes, there will be more time skips coming from here on out. Nothing too major though. We are not suddenly going to skip to the beginning of ME1. Plenty of stuff to do before then.**

 **Random guy – considered it but not too seriously. Not at this stage at any rate.**

 **On with the story!**

…

 **CHAPTER 19 – GEAR CHECK**

Heading towards Omega the second time was more tiring than I thought it would be. Not because I had been overly drained from training, or from a lack of sleep. It was more mental tiredness brought on by having to listen to multiple people being angry at me for being stupid.

The first one was Torrin who couldn't believe that I shot myself in the hand. He had gone so far as to question my sanity and called me a few choice variants of moron, along with some words that didn't properly translate from Palava to English. From the sounds of them though, I could guess that they were not meant for polite company. Still, the young turian couldn't disguise the relief at seeing us back in one piece.

The next was Aleria who had freaked out once she had been told by Torrin and had alternated between shrieking at me and worrying over me. I honestly thought that at one point she would refuse to let me off the ship and just keep me in biotic stasis at all times. I did manage to calm her down after a long while but she clearly wasn't happy for the rest of the day.

Liserias had just glared at me before reaching over and smacking me on the back of the head. The only part of that conversation that was really noteworthy was me saying "Don't do that again" and her replying "Then don't be stupid again". Needless to say, I didn't leave that conversation feeling like it was the last time I was going be hit over the back of the head by my turian medic.

Ely had been very vocal in her opinions on how stupid I was. Honestly, I didn't know the young quarian female had such a colourful vocabulary outside of 'bosh'tet'. Hectar at least had just shaken his head and gone back to work. Carlos had just called me crazy and left it at that.

Beau had promised more pain in my workouts. He claimed that "If you have the energy to shoot yourself then you have the energy to _run all day_ ". The way he finished that sentence actually made me think I was safer pretending to be a slave in front of the batarian noble all over again.

Still, the way that the other areas of my galactic expansion was proceeding was working out well for me.

Nelathie had managed to complete the plans for the orbital platform in its entirety. I had given her another bonus and told her to start working on a ship-based version that would fit the _Hidden Enterprise_. But there had been something that she had brought up that I hadn't really thought too much about. What happens if the rounds fired missed the target? Having a rounds more than five hundred tonnes flying through space at the speed of light wasn't the issue. The issue came in with the question: what happens if the rounds hit a planet?

It flashed through my mind that this was actually the issue that reared its head that led to Cerberus finding the reaper corpse in ME2. Somehow I doubted that the round that cored out that reaper was significantly less that the rounds my orbital platforms and ships would fire. And I was not exactly willing to have an accident that led to an extinction of a civilisation.

In the end, Nethalie and I talked to Horaxus about the issue. The old turian came up with the suggestion that we use the centre of the large round to either place a hidden eezo engine that would automatically drop the rounds out of light speed, or place a plasma based explosive device that would completely melt the MAC round after a predetermined distance or length of time. I suggested working on the plasma core first. It seemed like it would be the cheaper and more practical of the two options. Having to spend money on extra eezo to place another engine inside a heavy MAC round just seemed like it was going to blow out prices too quickly. The only real saving grace was that because the MAC rounds from the weapons I had Nethalie design were so much larger than any other heavy mass effect weapons around, it would actually be able to fit a separately designed core that would work purely for disposal.

Ely and Misol, the quarian that I had hired before the slave auction, had gone out and bought three more medium transports that would fit my specifications. They were all ex-turian vessels and came in at light-cruiser tonnage. So far, none of the ships were larger than my _matriarch_ -class heavy transport so I was likely going to use that vessel as the flagship of my little fleet, whenever I got around to finishing the upgrades. Luckily, I still had plenty of cash to throw around.

Speaking of, the ships that I had all bought were now in line for upgrades. After Omega, I was going to be heading to Mannovai where I would be putting the _Hidden Enterprise_ into space dock and exchanging it with the newly upgraded _kirik_ -class ship I had bought earlier. The enterprise would be going and getting the weapons, shields and engine upgrades that the other ships were all in line to get. I had managed to talk down the salarian weapons company to give cheaper prices on all ultraviolet GUARDIAN systems by getting a massive group discount and promising future work when I got more ships. And I couldn't help but feel that Persei was already showing how useful she could be as, only yesterday, she had offered to come forward and negotiate with the salarians on my behalf. She had been a little nervous at the beginning but despite being out of the game for eighty years she had still managed to pull off an impressive level of dignity, poise and mental manipulation to drop the price from the two and a half billion credits, down to slightly over a billion a piece. I still don't know how she did it but I immediately offered her the job of my personal business negotiator. I couldn't think of an actual title, I just figured that she was good and that meant I wanted her to work for me.

The most unexpected thing was that my old project, operation Hearts and Minds, seemed to have grown a life of its own. Movie options had gone from occasional viewings, to a massive increase in small-vid sales. Something kinda like Netflix. There were movies that I owned the rights too and other old movies that came out of the works that some journalists and critics had gone after like moths to flame. The salarians had become fans of more calculated films like Twelve Angry Men and Imitation Game. Courtroom dramas were their thing but the comedies were completely lost on them. Asari generally preferred light-hearted movies and period pieces, which included TV series too. I had seen that The Tudors and Downton Abbey were now incredibly popular in asari space. The turians were, somewhat stereotypically, all into the war films. Saving Private Ryan, Gallipoli, Band of Brothers, Tora! Tora! Tora!, Bridge on the River Kwai, Dunkirk, American Sniper were all popular choices, with Patton also in the top 10 for older turians. Even the krogan had a list of favourite films out there. Jurassic Park topped the list every week, but Rambo, Rocky, The Terminator and, somewhat surprisingly, Crocodile Dundee were all in demand.

In fact, my favourite review for Rocky came from the same krogan that reviewed Jurassic Park for me.

"Rocky series: a gentle reminder for all krogan that no matter what the problem is, everything can be solved by punching it in the face."

That one had me chuckling. But all in all life is looking up. Now I just had to make sure that I lived through Omega a second time. Luckily I had a plan on how to keep me in Aria's good books.

…

Pulling into Omega the second time was a lot like pulling into it the first time. Aria had been warned that we were coming and she made sure that there was someone there to meet us, this time a salarian whose name was never mentioned. He was in armour but for some reason he seemed to find Jurt intimidating. I wasn't sure if it was because he was a krogan, the battle scarred armour, the scars on his face and hump, or the fact that an unconscious Bray was thrown over Jurt's shoulder without any consideration for comfort. Almost like a sack of potatoes.

"Ah, right," the salarian stammered. "Well, I believe you know the way. I will let you go."

I gave him a cheerful smile and Jurt and Beau fell into step behind me as we made our way to the nearest public aircar. The salarian took off, opening his omni-tool as he turned away. If I was a betting man, I would have put money on him giving Aria a call immediately. Not that it bothered me. It just meant that she knew that her bodyguard was imitating a boneless shrubbery.

A short aircar journey later found us making our way to the entrance of Afterlife; Jurt still carrying Bray unceremoniously over his shoulder, Beau with Bray's weapons on his back, in addition to his own. I took a minute to look at the line of people who were waiting to get in to the club itself. It was noticeably longer than when I had come in last time. There were also a few more humans and asari in the cue. I let the smallest of smiles curl the edge of my lips as I saw it and heard distinctly recognisable music coming from within the club. We walked up to the turian standing at the door, ignoring the protests of the people waiting in the line. I shook his hand and felt a slip of paper being passed into mine. I gave him a little nod and walked in, leading Beau and Jurt into the club.

As the music boomed around us I couldn't help it. I smiled. The music wasn't affecting me this time around and not only that, it was a club remix of Darude Sandstorm. I chuckled and read from the piece of paper. Before I left the club fully last time, I had gone to the turian bouncer outside and asked him to count how many people came in every day and how many people waited in line. I basically wanted to see if the music that I had given Aria had helped bring more people into the club. Turns out that I was right. Over the last two weeks there had been an increase of customers attending the club by about fifteen percent. I couldn't help feeling a little smug about that. Somehow, I don't think that Aria would be as amused about that as I would but hey, life is all about finding the little pleasures. If one of those pleasures was proving that one of my little experiments worked on the Queen of Omega then who was I to complain. Point to me.

I led the way through the crowd, leaving Beau and Jurt to follow in my wake, Jurt still hauling the unconscious Bray over his shoulder. There were a few odd looks but no one said anything. I idly noted that there seemed to be more humans in here than the last time I came in. I wasn't prepared yet to say that the music was the drawing card for them but I wasn't about to discount the possibility.

We finally made it through the crowded dance floor and reached the stairs at the back, guarded by the familiar turian with a Phaeston assault rifle. He gave us a look of disbelief for a moment as we approached before gesturing up the stares with a flick of his head.

"Are you sure about this?" Beau asked quietly one last time, barely audible over the thumping club music.

I nodded back without turning to look at him. I had some information that would get us out of a tight spot, if Aria decided to take offence at our continued existence for assaulting Bray. "Trust me," I said, just loud enough to be heard by my two crewmates. "Aria might not be happy at the beginning but she is going to be very happy we dropped by, even with her unconscious minion." I took a look at Bray who had remained on the dark side of awareness despite the booming atmosphere of the club. Jurt must have really hit him hard when we took him out of the brig.

I turned cheerful as we reached the top landing and met the same crew as before who were waiting to scan us. They took a confused look at Bray over my krogan's shoulder and exchanged visible looks of bewilderment.

"Come on lads!" I exclaimed with a grin. "Move out the way! Aria will be wanting the return of her little guard here."

The aliens all stood dumbfounded as we walked by them not the main office area. They didn't even seem to notice that we didn't remove our weapons.

We entered the room and immediately ascended the stairs. The four batarian bodyguards whose names I didn't care to get last time were far more responsive than the ones outside. We had only made it up a few steps before they had their weapons drawn and not quite pointed in our direction. I threw them a bland smile and walked up the rest of the stairs to stop at the top landing where Aria was watching us with a cautiously guarded expression on her face.

"Hello, Ms T'Loak!" I greeted cheerfully. "Where do you want us to drop this?" I gestured to Bray hanging off of Jurt's shoulder.

She glared at me for a long moment, obviously not appreciating the overly bright persona that I was projecting. I knew I was laying it on a bit thick but I figured that I might as well stir things up a little. I wasn't overly happy right now. Not since I had to shoot myself on Camala, to be honest. While I knew it wouldn't be safe to push things too far I wanted to relieve it by being slightly sarcastic. It was how I had learned to cope from my previous experiences. It made it more satisfying when the other shoe dropped, if the other party was sucked in to the routine.

Eventually she looked at one of her other guards and gestured to Bray with a flick of her head. Immediately he moved over and hauled the unconscious batarian off my krogan friend and started to drag him down the stairs. Looking back at me she gave another gesture to the couch, inviting me to sit down. I readily complied, making myself as comfortable on the couch as I could while wearing armour.

"So Mr Neilson," she began, her voice in that snappy impatient tone I remembered from both the game and my previous visit, "care to explain how my man ended doubling as a living scarf?"

I sat up brightly. "Well let's see," I said, bringing up a hand to count it off on my fingers. "First, I punched him in the face. Then I ordered Jurt here to knock him out. Then I had him locked in the brig. Then when we got here I punched him in the face again. And finally Jurt knocked him out and brought him here so that he wouldn't make a scene."

During my little speech I could see Aria's body tensing. As each of my points was brought up her glare became harsher and harsher as she steadily got angrier. If I didn't have a plan then I may have truly been concerned about talking this way. Then again, if I was truly afraid of her then I wouldn't have ever hit Bray in the first place. Not to say that I didn't have a healthy respect for her strength and abilities, I just wasn't afraid. To be honest, I hadn't been scared of pain since the dungeon.

"And what makes you think that I should let you get away with beating and imprisoning one of my people?" she demanded, her voice dangerous.

I sneered at her a little. "Well that depends," I replied, my voice losing its overly cheerful tone. "Was his attempt to have me killed his idea, or yours?"

Her tattooed brow furrowed slightly in confusion, broadcasting her answer. "What are you talking about?" she spat.

"I take it you know my disguise for the slave market?" I asked, relaxing more into the couch. It really was a comfortable piece of furniture. I imagine that if I wasn't wearing armour it would be even better. She nodded. "So him pushing me into a batarian noble while in my disguise, was that your idea, or his?"

Her eyes narrowed further. "That would not have ended in your death, unless it was the hegemon himself or his inner circle."

"Any time a human slave is involved in a perceived assault on a batarian noble the chances of death increase, which I am sure you know," I said.

"It still doesn't excuse your actions," she growled, her anger starting to grow again. "You assault one of my men, drag him on display through my station, bring him into _my_ club and expect me to not think that you have disrespected me and broken the first rule on Omega?" She started to glow blue as she tapped into her biotics. "You have about fifteen seconds to convince me that this wasn't a challenge against me before I decide that your continued existence is a personal insult."

I gave her my best unimpressed look. "Oh, stop trying to be the hardass here," I said, hardening my tone. "We have something to talk about that is far more important to you than Bray being punched in the face for trying to get me killed."

Her glare itself was threatening death in the most painful ways imaginable. "And what would that be?" she hissed.

I turned to look around the office in the most casual way I could. "Liselle."

A very shocked silence lasted for about three seconds, during which time I kinda regretted turning to look out over the office at that moment because I wanted to see the stunned look on Aria's face, before a biotics-coasted hand launched out and grabbed my armour, yanking me back towards her with strength to rival Jurt.

"Do you want to repeat that?" she asked, her voice low and dangerous, promising pain if I said so much as one syllable wrong.

I gave a carefree wink at Jurt and Beau, who were watching me like hawks, before finally turning back to Aria's wrath-filled face.

"Let me go," I said calmly. "Cool yourself down, lose the attitude and we will talk like reasonable people."

Her jaw clenched tight and I could feel her hand squeeze tighter on my armour, giving out a squeak from one of the plates as it bent slightly. "Or I could flay you and get the answers _my_ way," she growled.

I let the calmness slip from my face slightly and my expression went hard. "I know that Bray was taking photos of me when I was in my disguise on Camala," I said coolly. "I know that he would have sent them to you, which means you have seen my scars. So, tell me, what do you think you could do to me that hasn't already been done?" I let that sink I for a minute as she continued to glare at me. "Now, let me go, tell your boys here to stand down, then take a deep breath and we can talk things through. Or you can act like a krogan in a blood rage and learn nothing about why I know the name of your daughter."

The glare that she sent was impressive. I could probably only name about five people that I had ever met whose glare I would have found more intimidating, but I just stared back at her calmly, not letting her see any change in my demeanour. After all, I had some experience in acing down threatening people.

"Or I could strip it from your mind by force," she bit out, her voice like grated iron, the blue wisps getting stronger.

I shrugged. "You could try," I agreed easily. "But then you lose all future cooperation from me. Now, stop acting like a queen bitch instead of Aria T'Loak and let me go so that we can talk."

She gave off another growl and her jaw clenched. Her fist tightened even further and the plates high on my right shoulder actually cracked a little. Then, finally, she let go and pushed me back hard against the couch. I could see the guards visibly relax, though they didn't let go of their weapons.

"Fine," she spat out viciously. "Talk!"

"Once you calm down," I said, my voice still cool.

"You beat up my man and you expect me to calm down instead of killing you when you have knowledge of Liselle?!" she demanded.

I narrowed my eyes as I started to let my own frosty glare, developed over close to a decade of dealing with murderers, gang members, rapists and paedophiles on a daily basis, take over my face as I faced her fully for the first time. "You know what he did," I said, my tone soft but not losing any of the threat of violence that it carried. "The _only_ reason that he came back alive at all was because he worked for you. If you had been _anyone_ else in the galaxy, the only thing that you would have got back was his head in a box, dripping vorcha jizz from where his eyeballs _used_ to be." I let my face harden fully, letting the full level of my glare show. "And trust me when I say that the jizz would not have been put there after his death."

Just like me, Aria did not flinch away from my glare, but stared evenly back at me while I could see the batarians shift a little uneasily at my threat.

"Well," she said, her tone noticeably calmer than it had been moments ago, almost seeming amused, "that was certainly an impressive statement." The glowing blue of biotic output died out finally as she sat back in her seat and looked at me appraisingly. "Not many people have the balls to talk that way to me anymore. You must be either crazy or have a death wish."

I raised a frosty eyebrow as I relaxed my glare. "Who says it isn't both?" I asked.

The edge of her lip twisted ever so slightly into a smirk for a second before she returned to glaring at me. "Sure. I'm calm now, see? Talk." It wasn't a request.

I looked back out over the office. The patrons at the tables on the lower landing had left at some point. I guess they had thought there was going to be violence and their self-preservation instincts had warned them that the area was likely not a safe place to avoid collateral damage.

"Have you ever heard of a group called Cerberus?" I asked.

There was a pause as she seemed to think about it. "I think so, but I don't know much about them," the asari replied. "They tend to stay clear of me. What's that got to do with anything?"

"They are a human supremacy group," I explained. "Started up as a quasi government-organised black ops group that was almost completely privately run, just after that little contact skirmish the turians started. They went rogue after they thought that the Alliance government wasn't doing enough to promote the so-called superiority of humanity. These days, they focus on several different tasks, such as surveillance and intelligence, sabotage and assassination, among other things like weapons development. They are still somewhat small compared to groups such as the STG but there are less restrictions and more demands."

"And I am guessing that they are the ones that told you about Liselle?" she demanded.

"In a way," I agreed. A complete lie, of course, but she didn't need to know that. "I have an inside man of my own that is feeding me information on some of the projects and such that they have going on. During his datamining, your name came up along with information, including genetic records, of the existence of Liselle as your daughter. They didn't have a confirmation on who the father is but they also found something that led them to believe that Tevos was the other parent."

The ever so slight tightening on the purple face told me all I needed to know. Tevos was Liselle's other parent. A well kept secret that she had been desperately trying to hide, apparently.

"And what do they plan to do with the knowledge of my daughter?" she growled out. Clearly the idea that Liselle was going to be part of someone else's plans was something she objected to.

"At this stage, nothing," I said. "At the moment the organisation is focussing heavily on gathering information and financial backers. I first heard about them years ago but never had to worry about them. I have a feeling that may have changed though."

"Oh?" she asked, tilting her head slightly. "How so?"

I gave her a wry smile. "Well, it turns out that I have made quite a bit of money over the last few months. That, plus me being a human, means that I get the feeling that I may have a sales pitch for me to become a donor in the future."

"And will you?"

I could help the derisive snort that came out of me then. "Hardly," I said. "Have you seen my crew? I am one of three humans on my ship. There are equal numbers of quarians and turians on my crew. Not the sort of thing that would fly in a human-supremacy group like them. Won't stop them from trying to be persuasive though."

She gave a slow nod. "And how did they find out about Liselle and her parentage?" she asked.

I shrugged. "Hell if I know. But if I was to guess… you know how babies work in the asari culture. Only one genetic parent, so that's easy to track. Other than that, my guess is an extensive background check that involved past associates and known relations. I was able to find out that you had her contact information. I guess it wouldn't be much more to assume a relationship. A little more guesswork and there you go."

She gave a single suspicious nod, though her face was no longer looking as hostile as before. "So what do you plan to do now?"

I huffed a sigh. "At the moment, I have other things that I am trying to sort out. A few plans that will give a few of my crewmates a lesson in catharsis. Other than that, I will be instructing my man to keep his ear to the ground. If your name comes up in any meaningful way, or Liselle's comes up at all in a place that he has access to, then I would be calling you direct. If you give me your info, that is."

She gave me a sneer. "What, no blackmail attempt? No threats against her?"

I smirked back. "I think you have me mistaken for someone else," I replied easily. "I actually want to remain on good terms with all the most important people in the galaxy. Your name happens to be on that list of people."

"Good to know." She hesitated for a long moment. "Keep me informed. I want to know everything that they have on Liselle."

I stood and gave her a grin. "You didn't say please."

She rolled her eyes. "Sure. Please or whatever."

I nodded and turned around. Behind me I heard Aria standing too.

"Oh and Neilson?"

I turned around and immediately felt my head snap to the side from the fist that rocketed into my cheek. It was stronger than I had expected from a non-biotic powered punch and I was grateful that the gene mods made my bones strong enough to not break from it.

I turned back to her slowly and raised an eyebrow. "Feel better now?" I asked mildly.

She shook her hand out. "Consider the debt for knocking Bray out _twice_ paid in full."

I gave her a small grin and a small theatrical bow. "Indeed, oh pirate queen. Go forth and continue to enjoy Deadpool, the Saw series and the fifteen percent higher attendance fees that my assistance has given you." Then I turned and lead Jurt and Beau back down the stairs and into the club, relishing the ever-so-slightly stunned look on her face as I left.

…

Horaxes didn't even look up from his workbench as I entered his room. Not that it bothered me. I could appreciate a hard worker, especially when I am the one paying them. Plus I was letting the old gunsmith play around with a few new toys of his own creation, not to mention the upgrades to the weapons that I had asked him to organise.

"How are things coming along?" I asked from my position just inside the doorway.

He finally looked up at me and gave me a turian grin. It had taken a while but I had finally learned how to translate turian facial expressions.

"Very well, actually," he put down the tools that he was holding and walked over to a weapons rack that took up the left wall. There were only a few weapons there at the moment but I could see a large fabrication station working on a few more items that looked suspiciously like my AA-12.

"I have completed work on the old AA-12 and managed to create a working model that supports eezo tech. it was surprisingly difficult to alter such a versatile weapon from its weaker gunpowder form to modern standards." He rubbed his claws off on a dirty rag. "If the power gap wasn't so great, I probably wouldn't have even bothered."

He reached out and pulled a weapon that vaguely resembled the AA-12 from a weapons case next to the workbench. "Here is the first finished product," he declared proudly. "The SSA Butcher, created through Shieldstar Armoury. Eezo-tech's first fully automatic shotgun. Lightweight but extremely durable, the inner frame is made from stainless steel like the original, the outer frame is ultra-lightweight materials that provide the necessary structural support and durability that you would expect from a shotgun. The drum has been converted to having a rotating system of divisible heat sinks that can be individually replaced with ease. The top of the drum is the heat sink that is being used at trigger time. Then it will rotate through the drum down into an inert plasma coolant that disperses the heat far more effective than the current air-cooling system that most firearms use. The centre of the drum has a cooling motor to ensure that the coolant never builds up too much heat and it only activates once the coolant reaches a certain temperature and shuts off once the coolant has chilled again so it doesn't drain the power cell. The drum has twelve individual heat sinks that rotate while firing and the rotating frame is also stainless steel so it won't have any problems if it is knocked about at all. This beautiful machine can keep firing until the ammo block runs out without ever needing to take your finger off the trigger."

He rotated the gun and placed it back down on the bench. "The hardest part was the barrel and stock," he continued. "The original design basically had a spring that ran the entire length of the weapon to reduce recoil. That system doesn't work so well in a collapsible design. A hydraulic recoil system would weigh too much and is less effective so that was disregarded. In the end, I put in a multiple spring system attached to internal plates so that they never get displaced from each other, even when collapsed. The recoil from the mass effect field as it release the shot is transferred to the sliding plates inside the barrel, which then reduce the recoil through the springs to nearly nothing. This is now far more effective for modern tech but it has the drawback of being slightly more complicated than the original design when conducting weapon maintenance. So the anti-recoil system is effective enough to be able to handle an eezo-based shotgun, while now being able to collapse with ease like a normal weapon will.

"Lastly, to compensate for the lack of individual ammunition options that the previous design was capable of producing, the mods of the Butcher are built into the frame, just over the ammunition block. The options I put in are Disruptor rounds, High Explosive, or Hi-Ex mods, solid slugs or standard shotgun flakes. The standard setting will have a much lower range but it has the spread of a standard shotgun at a damage rating equal to a Master Shotgun VI. All in all, it can fire shotgun powered rounds at a rate of two-hundred-eighty rounds a minute and the solid rounds can go up to five hundred metres." He patted the grey stock affectionately. "This little beauty is beyond a Spectre-level weapon, my young friend. If I was you, I would make sure that this work of art never falls into anyone else's hands. Otherwise, the Council might declare usage of it to be illegal."

I nodded happily. The firing rate was a little lower than the original AA-12 but I wasn't going to complain. This weapon was a beast and would shred apart any shields that could fit on even the highest-level body armour like it was tissue paper. Horaxes was definitely a diamond find.

"Excellent work, my friend," I grinned at him. "I love to see the resulting work of a master."

"Oh, bless your plates, my boy!" he chuckled. "That weapon is likely the single most powerful weapon in the galaxy right now. There are other shotguns out there that have a higher damage rating, like the krogan Claymore, but their range will be limited and they will only last a few shots at most before they need to vent or they will overheat. Not to mention that their recoil will be like the punch of a charging varren in heat. This will never have that problem. And anyone that gets hit by this will be able to spend the last moments of their existence realising that they have been transformed into a fine mist."

He lovingly picked the weapon up and placed it back in the case alongside the bench. Then he picked up a familiar looking tube. "The old M-79 was the easiest to alter. I shortened the stock and made the barrel collapsible but most of the changes were to the ammunition. Due to the firing styles of the weapon, I kept it as a single shot weapon and kept most of the design the same. However, the stock will now store up the kinetic energy released in each shot and build it up to a carnage shot, much like the shotgun attachments. Five shots from this will give you the charge of a single carnage shot, so use it wisely. The rounds are still single shot breach-loaded exactly as they were before. This time though, not only do you have the standard round and the High Velocity, or Hive rounds, you also have the Hi-Ex rounds and the Thor rounds." He plunked four different grenade rounds for the M-79 on the workbench. He indicated a blue-tipped grenade. "The Thor rounds will give out nearly a million volts in a five metre radius that will short out any mech or even a geth, if the rumours are correct about their abilities. Hi-Ex has a blast radius of ten metres, so don't stand too close to the shock wave. Hive and standard are both five metre radius as well, though Hive will give you an extra hundred metres range on your shot. Really, none of them should be a problem though; in keeping with the original design, a round will not explode if the round has not travelled at least twenty metres from where you fired it. Anything less than twenty metres and all it will be is a rock thrown at very fast speeds. Still, a headshot would probably be fatal at that range so not a complete loss. There is a targeting crosshair that will be linked to your HUD so that you will be able to choose where your shots go with it too. No need to wonder if you are going to blow something else up by mistake."

"And how am I to carry the rounds?" I asked. "It isn't like I am going to have pockets on the hardsuit that will carry this for me."

"With this." He held up a cross bandolier that ran from both shoulders to opposing hips. "I had it work with Chop to ensure that you would not lose flexibility with them. Due to the improved nature of explosives, the modern rounds are significantly small than the old rounds and won't take as much space. This means you can hold more but they won't protrude as much as the old rounds would."

I nodded. At least with the cross bandolier, I would feel less like Chewbacca and more badass. I counted the pouches. I could hold twenty five of the grenade rounds, plus one in the gun. Not bad, though I would have to be careful for extended engagements.

"How about the minigun?" I asked.

He gave a chirping grunt and brought up an image on his terminal. "Once I had the idea of the rotating heat sink idea for the Butcher, I started to figure out how one would work for the minigun. Sadly, I don't think that there will be a small enough version that you would be able to carry, even with your gene mods."

I just waved him off. "I didn't expect that there would be."

"Indeed. However, I have managed to get one organised as a stationary gun, mounted as a fixed position suppression weapon. It fires nearly two thousand five hundred shots per minute. Individually the rounds would be fairly weak, barely above assault rifle standard, but the sheer number of hits that it can give out in such a short amount of time would compensate for that. So while a current mounted gun can only fire fifty large shots before it needs to vent, this can fire the entire block of thirteen thousand shots without ever having to take your hands off the triggers. I am still working on a portable system that would work for Jurt but I need to find a more efficient heat reduction system to what I am currently working with."

"Well, if anyone can figure it out, it would be you."

His mandibles flared in a pleased grin. "My boy, that's the reason you hired me instead of some incompetent moron."

"Damn straight."

…

Chop looked up as I walked in, surrounded by his surprisingly clean and organised version of chaos he called a workspace.

"Brock," he greeted. "Perfect timing. Just managed to finish the modifications on your hardsuit. Think you will be pleased with the work."

"If it is anything like your usual work I believe so," I replied.

He stopped and looked at me, head tilted. "Don't believe you have worn any of my customised armour yet," he stated. "Only the standard Colossus suit. While I did do some work on it, I cannot claim all the credit. Still, sentiment is appreciated. But moving on."

He walked over to a mottled grey suit of armour set up around a dummy, looking exactly how it would when I would be wearing it, minus the helmet. "Colossus light armour, infiltration customisation," he declared proudly. "Specially modified to be used for undetected insertion into a hostile environment, while still being armoured enough to get yourself out of there if things go bad. There are acoustic dampeners attached to the soles of the feet to ensure that there is no noise when the wearer dis walking slowly. It becomes audible to human, batarian, asari and turian standard hearing at a medium jog, while krogan, salarian, quarian and elcor can hear it at a light jog. Haven't been able to determine hanar capabilities, though speculate that a drell can hear a fast walk.

"As per your request I added your custom SONAR scanner that you had Hectar create into the helmet and made as a HUD that will not be too intrusive, and will not impede visibility too badly." He looked up at me. "Not entirely sure why SONAR was the name but will go with it."

Truthfully I went with the name SONAR as homage to the technology I used as inspiration. That and I couldn't think of a good acronym for Visual Instant Realtime Ultrasound Scanner, without giving off the wrong idea. I mean, VIRUS was cool and all but it gave off the wrong idea.

"Now," he continued, "so far as the actual suit goes, I have added one extra tech compartment in the back plate, giving you a total of three. Normally, there are only two and they both hold small shield generators. Now you have a third one and it holds something that I was able to pick up through… an unspecified associate."

Right. So likely illegal. So far so good.

Chop fiddled with his omni-tool and the suit flashed, then turned invisible, signs of an active cloaking device. I stared at it for a long moment before I let a pleased smile slowly build on my face.

"Active camouflage," Chop declared. "Not precisely legal for those outside of sanctioned government organisations. However, considering the work that you will be engaging in, I was able to procure a few base models. Of course, they were not quite at the level of STG usage, however I was able to run a few improvements on them. Once activated, your hardsuit will activate sensor jammers which will protect you from thermal detection, as well as the visibility spectrum. The system is set to recycle itself based on usage, so the more you move the harder it works to compensate. The harder it works, the shorter the running time before it needs to switch off and cool down. I have set a monitor for it on your HUD so be mindful.

"The last functional improvement was your suggestion in the right forearm bracer. It is a hidden retractable ten inch blade, diamond hardened edging. It also has a ballistic setting so it can be fired in an emergency up to fifty yards with enough power to pierce a Grade 3 hardsuit."

"Ok," I interrupted. "For comparison, what is my hardsuit rating?"

"Your infiltration set is rated as a Grade 5, purely because it is a Colossus-based set," Cop said. "Your medium armour is considered a Grade 8. Scale is determined on shields and barriers, not to mention armour thickness. Scale only goes up to 10, where the Colossus heavy armour would be classified."

I nodded. I hadn't actually seen that in the game. The rating system they went by was completely different. Now I would probably have to through and see what armours would be weak enough against the blade. For now though, I was probably going to need to focus on unarmoured parts of the body, or weak points, such as the neck.

"The final thing was your helmet," Chop continued. "The HUD has your shield strength, cloak meter and can easily swap back and forward to the SONAR setting. Once that was there I decided to not worry about other visibility modes, such as thermal vision. At least, not for your infiltration suit."

I picked up the helmet. I had asked him to model it after the Typhoon Ghost tactical mask that I used to have for airsoft games. I thought it looked sufficiently intimidating for field work. "Brilliant," I said with a small grin. "I can't wait to see it in action."

He gave me a big salarian grin in response. "I thought you would be happy with it."

…

I found Beau checking the gear in the armoury. He had taken over as the unofficial quartermaster whenever we weren't training. As a result, if he was on duty and not running me, Torrin and Hectar into the ground, then it was likely that he would be found in the armoury running inventory.

"Beau," I greeted as I walked in. "How are we looking?"

He looked up from a box of grenades that he was sorting through. "Boss," he returned casually. "Looking good. We should be fine to start operations once Hectar manages to get the blueprints."

It was just after we had got the data burst from Hectar's little trace program I had planted at the slave auction that we had started to organise for ground operations. It was a new level of detail that Beau was running us through. We had immediately disregarded any of the slave owners from Camala or Khar'shan as they had far too much security for an inexperienced crew to blood themselves on. Even Beau was adamant that we should stay away from them indefinitely. Jurt hadn't looked too happy but that was because we had found the batarian that owned Polisa. He was a wealthy merchant on Camala living in the capital Ujon and was friends with the well-known noble Edan Had'dah. The population was only small, slightly under three million registered non-slaves, but the eezo and industrial works meant that it was highly defended by the Hegemony. So I had taken another route. I sent a message for the batarian requesting a meeting on behalf of the fake turian I had represented at the slave meeting. I had only sent it this morning so I was still waiting for a reply.

"Good," I nodded. "We have been working hard for this. I want us to be as ready as possible."

"I know," he replied. "I want to do another day of blackout and infil drills before we go. Hectar is happy with the back seat while you, me and Torrin need to improve our coordination. The only problem is that Jurt keeps wanting to come in."

I nodded. "Yeah he keeps telling me the same thing. Luckily I have a new toy that Horaxus has which will be ready for his to play with before we get the Aratoht. He won't be useful in stage one but he will be useful later on. We just need to make sure that the special transports that we have ordered are ready at the Citadel like we asked. I want to have Misol and Ely go over them with a fine tooth comb before we leave to make sure that the STG has not left any special surprises in them."

"Agreed." He looked at me with a grin. "Besides, we have three volunteers from the residents group who want in."

I narrowed my eyes. "How did they find out?"

"Apparently they found out from Torrin after they saw us training and wondered why we were doing it," he grunted. "I am going to have to have a word with the kid in private. He needs to learn that there is information that is not that you just don't give out."

I nodded. "Just don't tear him down too much," I cautioned. "I don't want his confidence shot just before we launch." He nodded. "Now, these volunteers for ground operations; I assume that they are the two turians and the human that gave our slaver friends so much trouble?"

He nodded again. "Yeah. Names are Bolart, Octavio and Ted. All claim to have experience in field work and all three say that they owe us a debt and the batarians payback. They figure that they can settle both if they join up."

I felt my mouth tighten slightly. "What do you think? Can we trust them?"

He looked off to the side thoughtfully for a moment. "Yeah, I believe so. They hate the batarians, that's for sure. I think we can guarantee that they will be happy to take on ground missions with us. Not sure how disciplined they will be. Besides," he gave a wry smile, "pretty much every single one of those slaves you bought seem to think that they all owe us their lives. Some of the others are already talking about staying on. Something about how you were the only one that would give a damn about them."

I thought for a moment. It had potential. It was kinda what I was hoping would happen but I didn't need a crew of grateful but mentally unstable people. Still, it was one of the things that I had planned for so I figured there was only one way to determine whether or not this plan would pull through.

"Alright," I said, looking back at Beau. "Run those three through the training exercises. If they are good to go in the next two weeks then we can use them. I think it would give us the chance to do more. But they all need to be cleared with Selaen and her team before they can take part in ground ops. Make the simulations as real as possible to try and draw out any negative responses. Try and put some fake batarians in there too. Don't want them to freak out the moment they step on the ground."

"Right."

With that I left. I had no idea which of the former slaves would be staying with the crew after we hit the Citadel. But it was straight from there to deep space before we traded ships and made out way to Aratoht on my first ground mission. As that thought went through my head, I could already feel the thrill of anticipation.

It was going to get messy.

…

 **A/N Please review/Follow/Favourite as you please.**

 **Next scene will be the first ground mission. Not sure exactly when it will be out but hopefully not too long. For those looking forward to some action, that's when it will start. Until next time!**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N Auto disclaimer**

 **Hi everybody! So, I know that I said that this would be the action chapter but it is taking longer than I expected to complete for a few reasons, one being that my other half had a kid after I posted the last chapter and I have been given primary carer responsibility. That and this chapter was going to be way too long, so I decided to cut it half. This was ready to go earlier so I decided to put it in so that you had something to read before New Year. However, I put a little something in at the end to make up for it. Hope you enjoy it when you see it.**

 **Comments:**

 **Thank you to all who commented. All reviews, including constructive criticism, are read and appreciated. It means a lot that you take the time to comment on this story.**

 **Seems like the vast majority were fans of the redesign of the AA-12. Glad that so many people agree that it would be a good addition to the ME universe.**

 **DahakStaz – not really sure about the Gungan shield from Star Wars. I don't honestly find that particularly practical when every individual person and vehicle has their own shields or barriers. The other stuff is still being considered.**

 **Jotun – don't worry, there are plans for other things, not just firearms. Can't put it all in at once though, some things need to be spaced out.**

 **Guest – thanks for the advice. I passed all my units this semester so that's something.**

 **On with the story!**

…

 **CHAPTER 20 - MEANWHILE**

Tevos sat at her spot on the Council table, waiting for the meeting to start. Uncharacteristically, Valern was the last one to this meeting. Sparatus had been waiting longer than she had. They hadn't spoken other than greeting each other, looking down at their individual data slates as they were each trying to get more work done. Tevos was in the middle of a report on the resocialisation of slaves freed from captivity that she was far more interested in than usual when Valern finally walked into the room.

"Sorry for being tardy," he said, quickly moving over to his chair and sitting down. "I had to verify a few reports before I came."

"Perfectly understandable," Tevos assured him. And it was. Valern was never late without a good reason.

"Well, now that you're here we can begin," Sparatus declared. He tapped a few buttons on his terminal and the lights of the chamber flashed. "The room is now sealed. This Council is now in session. All are in attendance. The first item on the agenda has been requested by Valern. Valern, you have the room."

"Thank you," the salarian nodded at the turian in acknowledgement. "I have received a… rather unusual report from one of our STG bases on Tuchanka."

That had Tevos sitting up. Rarely was a report from Tuchanka received with good news. Usually it meant that the clans were uniting under a leader who needed to be put down for assassination, distasteful as it was. They couldn't risk the krogan having a chance of uprising again.

Sparatus was apparently of the same mind. "Which clans are involved this time?" he said, his tone bored. Tevos couldn't help but frown slightly. Killing may necessary, but that didn't mean that they should be so blasé about it.

"There are thirteen clans involved, the largest of which is Hailot, but it is not what you think," Valern replied. "The clans sent representatives to the STG base with a request."

Tevos' frown deepened. STG bases were supposed to be secret and hidden. If the salarians were doing their job properly then they would never have been found. "They approached the base directly?" she asked, worried. "Were there any casualties?"

"No," Valern denied. "If you will both allow me to finish then I can get through my presentation."

Tevos sat back, feeling sheepish. Sparatus merely clenched his mandibles.

"As I was saying," Valern continued, "the STG agents were approached by the representatives of the clans who submitted a written proposal, asking for the STG to work with human scientists to clone dinosaurs from Earth. They further requested that there be a release of these animals on Tuchanka or another garden world for the purpose of cultivation until the krogan could use them as a test of sorts to prove themselves as warriors."

Tevos felt flabbergasted. There were too many unexpected revelations in this one report. If there was anything that the krogan would have requested from anyone, the salarians would be _the last_ race that the krogan would go to, blaming them as they did for the genophage. Requesting a scientific research project was another step too far. Seeking the resurrection of an extinct species, and the placement of said species on Tuchanka or another garden world for the purposes of having a predator to hunt them was just the cream of the platter.

"Please tell me that this is a joke," Sparatus said flatly.

"It would appear to be completely genuine," Valern said.

Sparatus groaned. "Where would they even have found out about a species that was extinct on the human home world who knows how long ago?"

"Sixty-five million years, give or take," Valern supplied, probably for the sake of accuracy. "It appears that the recent influx of old human vids onto the mainstream market introduce the krogan to them. Jurassic Park, the vid where the concept came from, has consistently been the top vid for krogan viewers for the last two months."

Sparatus groaned again. "Of course, the _humans_ had something to do with it," he moaned. "They have been nothing but a pushy upstart race since the Spirits-damned day we met them."

Tevos frowned again. Sparatus' distaste for anything human was well known and he took any opportunity to air his dislike of them that he found. The clown ambassador, Udina, hadn't done humanity any favours in improving that opinion with his overbearing braying on any issue that was brought up. Sparatus seemed to take it as a personal challenge to shoot the human down, which he usually managed to do purely because the turian was a councillor and the human was an ambassador, whether any argument or complete was valid or not. The human was able to claim enough wins though that Sparatus continued to be annoyed by their races' mere presence on the Citadel and the humans couldn't claim that they were being unfairly treated. Even if some of their better claims were pushed aside.

In those instances Valern typically voted along with Sparatus, not because he necessarily agreed with his turian counterpart, but mostly for the sake of appearing united. Tevos outwardly continued to do the same, but recently she started to wonder whether they were serving the cause of justice by doing so. She didn't air her concerns though because Sparatus was stubborn enough that all it would do would be to cause animosity among the Council.

"The humans are involved but only peripherally," Valern stated, throwing Sparatus a sidelong glance that could have meant anything. "This proposal is completely krogan. Incidentally, the STG commander was unnerved that a krogan could be so polite when asking for something. It served to highlight how much they want this."

Tevos digested that information slowly. The krogan were never polite, unless they were trying to persuade someone to become their mate, a persuasion she had been on the receiving end numerous times over the centuries, unsuccessfully for the krogan involved. Any other time they just demanded and expected people to follow. That was how they worked. Anything else was considered an ulterior motive. But asking for extinct apex predators to be cloned and used for hunting purposes didn't seem to be outside the realm of possibility. "So, what is going to happen?"

"At this stage, nothing official," Valern said. "No doubt, some sympathetic STG operative will look into the possibility to determine its feasibility, but it may be years before anything more happens. The dalatrasses will debate it first. Many of them will likely vote against it automatically just because it is krogan but they will spend a few minutes discussing merits at least. There are not many planets with such a predator having gone extinct. I expect that some scientist out there will attempt it just to see if it can be done. If there are any updates then I will inform this Council."

Tevos nodded and saw Sparatus just shake his head slightly in exasperation. Oh well, nothing that can be done about that now. "You also have the second item on our agenda," she said, looking at her data slate.

"Yes," Valern nodded. "As touched upon earlier, there has been an influx of human vids on the market. None of these vids are less than a hundred and fifty years old yet many of them are far more successful at drawing crowds than even the most popular current vids by any other race. That includes the asari Fornax issue."

Tevos closed her eyes and huffed a sigh at hearing that. She could understand and tolerate quite a few things that pornography producers made but, for some reason, Fornax seemed to bring asari to a new level of debauchery. It often led to issues of harassment from young men and women of other races who didn't know anything about them other than what they saw in the magazines.

"We seem to be spending a lot of time talking about humans today," Sparatus grumbled. "And that fool Udina isn't even here."

"We are talking about them for good reason," Valern shot back. "I have here reports indicating that sympathy and positive feeling towards the humans has risen across all races. The public are seeing these vids and they are starting to side with them over issues such as the territorial disputes in the Traverse, the first contact issues at their colony of Shanxi and nearly every other social and socio-political point that the humans are a part of."

" _What?"_ Sparatus cried. "How could vids create such a sympathetic view of humans in such a short time?"

"Easily," Valern said casually. "The media industry has long sought ways to effectively provoke thought in their target audience. _Fleet and Flotilla_ was supposed to be a way to inspire positive emotions in quarians. Our media industry has rarely hit such a note as the humans have been able to achieve though, except through the discussion of facts. For example, the whole issue of turian action over Shanxi has been re-evaluated by the top salarian sociologists to coincide with similarities between human media depictions of negative first contact scenarios. A copy of this report has been forwarded to each of you."

"Turian intervention was justified, the Council at the time agreed!" Sparatus interrupted. "Opening relays is a violation of Council law."

"Which the Alliance was both not aware of nor signatory to," Valern countered. "Nor does the law allow for the invasion of a races territory with the intention of making them a client race as retaliation."

Tevos gaped at what she was witnessing. Valern never fought against Sparatus on issues regarding humanity. And while he had not been on the Council at the time, he had generally been in favour of the consequences of checking humanities expansion throughout the galaxy in the past. This was completely out of character towards him.

"But let's look at the actions taken over Shanxi," Valern continued, ignoring Sparatus' spluttering. "In human media over the last two hundred and fifty years, across all mediums, there have been dozens of portrayals of first contact situations with other races and humans based from Earth. Note that I distinguish humans from Earth and humans from other worlds. If humans were not depicted as having originated from Earth then they were well integrated into a multi-race society. In media where Earth-origin humans were the humans involved, then more than half of the first contact scenarios ended with violence, including up to the entire extinction of all human kind."

"Trust a race as paranoid as the humans to think that all first contact situations with aliens would involve violence," Sparatus grunted mulishly.

"It's not simple paranoia if it actually happened," Valern snapped back. "Then it might almost be considered prophetic."

Cold realisation settled on Tevos as she heard that. "So, when they met the turians and their first ships were destroyed before any communication was attempted…"

"Their minds would have immediately put them into an aggressive state of being, thinking that it was a valid possibility that their race was going to be destroyed," Valern finished. "This was exacerbated by the subsequent invasion of Shanxi by the turian navy." He shot a dirty look towards Sparatus. "They may well have thought that their worst nightmares were coming true and the continued social aggression aimed at them by this Council and other subsidiary governments have shown them nothing to prevent any negative opinion forming against Citadel Society. The conclusion drawn from the reports was that humans may well have only signed on to become part of the Citadel due to their fear that if they did not the turians would have been given carte blanche to continue their invasion into human space."

"We wouldn't have done that!" Sparatus objected.

"But they wouldn't have known that!" Valern rebutted. "And at that time there was no assurances that could be given to them to convince them otherwise. Centuries of mental conditioning through the media had made such actions a plausible possibility. And ever since they have joined, they have been looked at unfavourably by not only this Council, but the Hierarchy, Republics, Union, Hegemony and the Vol Protectorate governments individually. Only the elcor, hanar and drell have impartial dealings with them. And that is reflected in the actions made by this Council in all decisions regarding the Alliance."

Tevos couldn't help squirming in her seat at the implied accusation. While she hadn't been actively negative towards the humans, she was more than willing to hold off on giving them some of the benefits that would normally have been given. Even though she had argued for them being given an embassy early as compensation for the Shanxi incident. She looked through the report to trying and hide her misgivings.

"And now that the public is looking more favourably towards humans, what happens if people start asking questions about the decisions this Council has made regarding the Alliance? When they decide that we are being prejudice against the humans? Do they just let it go? Many would but not all of them. People would lose faith in the decisions that this Council reaches. We would not be seen as the body of justice we proclaim to be, but as a biased group looking out to settle petty grudges any way we can."

"Petty grudges?" Sparatus barked in outrage. "You call the lives of hundreds of turians 'pretty'?"

"Stop trying to twist my words here Sparatus," Valern growled. "You forget that I am not Jath'Amon or Udina who would rise to such low tactics. You're attempts to undermine every human grievance is indeed petty and reflects poorly on this Council."

Ah, that was it. Valern truly didn't care about disadvantaging the humans, his sole concern was how the Council might undermine themselves by acting out inappropriately. In the past that hadn't mattered but with this increasing popularity of humans and their cultural history, it might be different and Valern was trying to pre-empt the negative image.

"Gentlemen," Tevos finally interrupted. "Calm yourselves! Don't devolve into this crass and accusatory bickering that leads to unnecessary division. We are the Council. We work together to try and make the entire galaxy better."

She turned to Sparatus. "Valern is right, Sparatus. You know that I of all people get tired of Ambassador Udina and his braying nonsensical arguments but even still your attempts to demean the humans at every opportunity are small minded and at the least serve to undermine the position of a councillor. If such actions as you have repeatedly taken do make the greater public, and not just humans, question whether or not they can turn to the Council for mediation and deliberation then we will have completely failed our purpose and many would be justified to call for a vote of no-confidence in us. Do you want that to happen, just so you can still take your little personal joys of belittling the humans?"

Sparatus sat rigidly in his chair, his mandible clenched tightly as he looked as if he would stubbornly go against the joint argument of both Tevos and Valern. Finally, after a long moment, he wilted and let out a whistling sigh.

"I never thought the day would come again when this Council would have to pander to the humans," he said dejectedly. "Giving them an embassy was enough, they still should have decades before they earn that."

"I never said you had to pander to the humans," Valern countered, his voice much calmer. "Just be as unbiased against them as you are to the other races. If the humans are to be denied then an actual proper reason needs to be given, and not the rather flimsy excuses that you have been using."

Tevos ignored their reconciliation as she went through the report. She stopped as she came across a certain name that had been making her life far more interesting than she had wished it would. Brock Neilson. He was the one that had purchased the rights to these old human vids and had organised screenings for them. He certainly was getting involved in a lot of different things.

"Now that I think we have covered the humans sufficiently," Valern's voice cut into her thoughts, "Sparatus, you have an item for this meeting?"

"Yes and, coming on top of this business with the humans, it is a strange one," Sparatus sighed. "I received reports from the Vol Protectorate. They are seeking aid in an increase of their military."

"Curious," Valern mused, looking at the report that Sparatus had sent them. "Is this accurate?"

"That's what the ambassador sent me," Sparatus confirmed.

"This will more than double their current military capacity," Valern noted. "And this request was made… oh there it is. Curious."

Tevos frowned as the skimmed over the report. The vol had always been rather complacent when it came to military matters, being willing to rely on the turians for their defence with only a token bombing fleet to be used for whatever protection their scouting parties would require. The entire Protectorate Navy was barely a hundred and fifty vessels, including supply freighters, hospital ships and scout corvettes. It was smaller than single turian fleet. Now they were looking at an extreme upgrade in military capability.

She frowned as she read further. "Am I reading this right? They wish to have two retired dreadnoughts for retrofitting, or a brand new one?"

"That's what was in the report," Sparatus shrugged.

Something else flashed into Tevos' mind and she brought up a report from Matriarch Malitae. There it was, the vol ambassador had a meeting with Brock Neilson just over a month ago. Could he have been related to this unexpected request? Or was it a coincidence that he was attached to both the items on the meeting agenda?

"How are the primarchs taking the request?" Valern asked

"Not like we can really say 'no'," Sparatus grumbled. "But they are both happy and cautious. If they build their forces up enough then we can spare some of our troops that would normally be used to patrol their space and we can move those ships to the border systems. The slavers have started to get busy again."

And just like that, her mind was back on Brock Neilson and the report she had been reading before the meeting started. The call that Aria had casually dropped the fact that the human was off to buy slaves at a batarian market had shocked her to the core. She had thought that any of those tiny treacherous emotions that had begun to grow had been shattered. Then had come the report from Spectre Bau that the human had organised a group of asari counsellors that specialised in slave repatriation. Then the personal call from the man himself asking for help to get in contact with the salarian and human ambassador and a way to find the quarian fleet. She had almost been ready to send the Spectre after him to stop him. After those calls, she realised how much she had misjudged him. He hadn't been a slaver, he had been there to free as many as he could. She just couldn't understand why.

Then the photos that Aria had sent along had had cleared that up. They had been… disturbing, to say the least. The thing was, she would never have known the extent of his injuries without those photos. Sure, there were a couple of visible scars but nothing in human's behaviour would have led her to think that he had anything worse.

"Tevos?" a flanged voice cut into her thoughts. "You still with us?"

"My apologies," she said smoothly. "You comment about slavers made me think of a report I had received. Apparently, a small number of slaves had been freed and were being repatriated. My office was asked to coordinate with Ambassador Linron and Ambassador Udina to allow the freed salarians and humans to return home."

Sparatus grunted. "At least that's some good news," he muttered. "About time somebody did something about that."

A little hypocritical, Tevos thought with a mental wince. As the Council, they could do something to try free slaves. Unfortunately, that most likely meant going to war which would kill more than they would be able to save. "Yes," she agreed out loud. "The thing that got my interest in the report was that the person had actually spent a lot of credits buying them and then setting them free. After they paid for counselling services."

"I must have missed that report," Valern said, his tone tinged with annoyance. Tevos couldn't help feeling a little smug. Valern _hated_ not knowing anything.

Idly, she wondered if this was how Brock Neilson felt after meeting with her.

"I can forward what I have on to you after this meeting," she said, even as she made mental plans to edit the report. If Mr Neilson was doing something good then she wasn't going to help the STG in curtailing his activities. "Though, there was no name attached to the person responsible, reports suggest that the one doing it may have been human." She couldn't help a sidelong glance at Sparatus.

He just scowled unhappily. "Let us move on," he muttered. "Who's next?"

"Very well," Valern consented. The turian had obviously been pushed too far on humans as it was. "I have the next item."

And the meeting went on.

…

Horaxes adjusted his collar nervously for the last time. He had never thought that he would be in this position. But now that he was, he was just terrified that he would mess it up.

"Relax," Brock said from beside him. "Just remember what we talked about and you will do fine."

"Easy for you to say," Horaxes grunted. "You've done your role before. I have never had to play as a slave owner. The very idea is detestable to a respectable turian."

Over the last few weeks, Brock had been attempting to find a way to locate a particular slave that, Horaxes heard, was actually Jurt's asari mate. There had been talk about letting Jurt organise a raid to go get her back. Admittedly, it was mostly Jurt doing the talking of that but still. Brock, thankfully, had led the idea of trying the less suicidal options first before they went on the attack. Beau had said, and Brock agreed, that the newly assembled ground crews were not yet skilled enough to try a raid on a planet as well defended as Camala. So, Brock had decided that the logical first step was to try and buy the poor matron from her current owner. Which is where Horaxes came in.

When Brock and Jurt went to the slave auction, they had said that Brock's slave owner was a turian. There were only two turians on his current crew that had a possibility of fitting the bill and Liserias would never have been taken seriously by the extreme patriarchal batarian society. Which left Horaxes to play the role of slave owner. While Brock would have been able to act as a representative at a slave market, when dealing with a 'fellow' slave owner, sending a slave to negotiate would be a direct insult.

So for the last week solid, Brock had insisted on helping Horaxes learn how to act the part of a slightly sadistic slave owner. It had to be done to explain the unfortunate young human's extensive scars. They ran scenario after scenario, making up questions that might be asked and chose topics of conversation that they would have to run through in-character. It had been mentally draining to an old craftsman like Horaxes but hopefully it would be worth it. Anything to rescue a poor soul from the batarians.

"Good thing for us that you are not playing a respectable turian today," Brock replied cheekily. "Now, Aria has been kind enough to let us use a room here in her club on Omega to facilitate this meeting." There was a small amount of sarcasm there. Good. The kid obviously knew that any 'favour' from Aria T'Loak was a two-ended varren.

"What did you have to pay her for the privilege of the office?" Horaxes asked warily.

The human chuckled. "Nothing actually. It was payment for some information that I gave her. Though I have no doubt that our illustrious pirate queen will try find a way to extort other favours from me in the future. Luckily, the information that I provided for her outweighs nearly anything that could persuade her to end me if I decided not to cooperate."

"Smart lad," Horaxes replied. At least the human knew how the game was played. Too many people who tried to do anything quickly got in over their heads and were lost in the quagmire of dealing with the less-than-reputables. "Now, I am dressed up, you are dressed down," he looked at Brock's scarred body, with only a few extra fake scars to mar his face, "and we have an appointment here on Omega with a batarian who fancies himself a noble. Shall we?"

Brock nodded and they departed the ship, making their way to the nearest aircar station. They stayed silent for the whole journey, mercifully in Horaxes' opinion. He was nervous, of that there was no doubt, and he used the extra time to silence his nerves. He had only even been as jittery as this on a few occasions in his life. The last time was when his dearly departed wife had told him she was pregnant with their daughter. Spirits, that felt like a lifetime ago now. How he wished that this was as easy as that time had been.

They arrived at Afterlife and made their way through the doors, unquestioned by the bouncers. It was a testament to Horaxes that Brock really had a high standing with Aria that her people didn't even look at him twice as they walked through the doors. Moving through the belly of the club was unpleasant. The music was different to that which he remembered from his younger days but the loudness was the same. For some reason, that he refused to attribute to the fact that he was much older, the volume of the music was no longer enjoyable, but instead was just plain oppressive to his ears. He gave a little sigh as he continued moving through the crowd of ravers. _When did I stop being young?_ he thought mournfully.

They finally passed the guard at the stairway at the back of the club leading to Aria T'Loak's offices. Horaxes didn't fail to notice the turian guard staring openly at Brock's scars. They made it to the top of the stairs and passed into the lower office area where the famed pirate queen was waiting for them. She stared for a long moment at the scars on Brock's chest, especially the large one on his shoulder. She took a step closer and grabbed his arm, causing Brock to flinch.

"Please, Miss," Brock gasped in pain, clearly in character. "This one is not yours to grab."

"Hmmm," Aria hummed thoughtfully. She turned and faced Horaxes. It was all he could do to not flinch away from her hard stare. "You're right on time, Mr Arcemedes. Your other party has arrived and is waiting in my conference room. Just follow Aldo here." She gestured to a batarian guard off to the side. "He will take you there."

Horaxes nodded and started to follow but stopped when he noticed Aria grab Brock by his arm and whisper in his ear. The human didn't visibly react other than the very slight twitch in his left eye. Aria let him go with the hint of a smirk that was nearly hidden by her hard facial expression and together the human and turian followed the batarian guard towards the meeting room.

They entered a small conference room at the back of the club that was obviously where Aria did her business dealings away from the thumping bass the music put out. Already waiting were two batarians, one who was well made up in fine clothing that had taken a sea, and another who was clearly a guard standing right behind him. Not that the guard was really needed; after all, Aria's people were staying in the room to make sure that there were no violent outbursts.

The well-dressed batarian stood up as Horaxes and Brock entered. "Greetings," the batarian said, tilting his head slightly to the left in a sign of respect. "I take it you are Mr Nixus Arcemedes?"

"I am indeed," Horaxes confirmed, making his voice more reedy than usual to play his role. "And you must be nobleman Krashki Ak'kans."

"That's correct," the batarian confirmed. "I must say, it is refreshing to meet a turian with your," he took a brief look at where Brock was standing in his hunched over state, "reputation. Most of your people are not so open when it comes to our cultural practices."

Horaxes held back his snarl and instead plastered on an insincere smile that probably came out as a sneer. "Well, that would be their loss now, wouldn't it?"

The batarian grunted in agreement. "Now, as much as I enjoy my time on Omega, business must come first, and I shudder to think what price you must have paid to hire out her business rooms. Let's get to the reason we are here."

They both sat down at the table, with the batarian's guard taking up a position standing behind the noble and Brock standing right behind his own chair, still in his hunched over pose.

"It has been brought to my attention that you have, among your chattel, a certain asari by the name of Polisa. Is this still true?" Horaxes said, going right to the heart of the matter.

Krashki tilted his head back thoughtfully for a moment. "Yes, I believe that I do have such a slave among my possessions. Though how that would be any business of yours, or how you found out about that one specific slave, escapes me."

Horaxes gave a single nod and deliberately frowned. "There is a krogan by the name of Ravanor Jurt. He… provided me with a service that has left me in the rather awkward position of owing him a debt. Apparently your asari means something to him. He requested her as payment." He gave a negligent shrug. "I told him I would make enquiries on whether you would be open to selling her. Hence, our meeting."

Krashki rub a hand thoughtfully along his jaw. "It must be a rather substantial service that he provided to you for you to buy him a slave. What did he do?"

Horaxes gave a practiced grimace. "Without going into the details, he was in the fortunate position of saving my life."

"So why not just blow him off and get him another slave?"

Horaxes gave a disinterested shrug. "As I said, apparently that particular slave is of some worth to him. And I have my own honour to think about in these matters. I would be far less likely to find willing business associates if I did not repay debts appropriately. While I am not here to threaten you or steal your property," he had to hold down a small amount of bile at the thought of considering a living being as property, "I am willing to see if you would accept payment above market value for her."

The batarian narrowed all four of his eyes in a thoughtful expression. "How much above market value?" he asked.

"Well, going by the information I received from the krogan, for an asari bordering on her matriarch years that has spent several decades in slavery, the going rate would be about three hundred and fifty thousand. I am will to pay double that, and up to a million if it can be done in less than a week and she is undamaged."

Krashki turned his head slowly and looked at Brock's scars openly. "Undamaged huh?"

Horaxes forced himself to leer. "This one is my property and I am not getting rid of him. He is far too useful as a message to all who see him that I will not let the least amount of rebellion among my slaves. But the asari will not remain mine and I will not have it said that I am ungrateful for those who properly provide me a service by halving the rewards to those who keep me safe by damaging their rewards."

The batarian gave me a slow nod. "And if I don't sell?"

Horaxes felt a little uncomfortable as he tried to not think about the poor girl if they failed today. "She is your property and you are within your rights to not sell if you so choose. But I trust that if you have no pressing reason to keep her then you will see the financial position that accepting my offer would put you in. you would have more than enough money to pay for two matron slaves and have some left over to get a few humans to join your number. All for the price that I am willing to pay for one matron."

"Huh, this krogan really impressed you, didn't he? I can't think of any other reason why a fellow slave owner would go to this effort for one particular slave that he isn't even going to keep."

Horaxes carefully tilted his head to the left while he nodded in agreement to the batarian's statement. "Despite what damage I do to my chattel, and the reputation that I have gained from those who I deal with and make no mistake I don't directly deal with many but those I do deal with know my personal tastes, I am quite fond of my life. It is my most important possession and I value it much more than any slave. Even so, I am not going to throw unlimited amounts of money at a krogan to return the debt. So, I will pay you up to a million credits if you will accept the offer for the asari, Polisa."

Krashki stroked his chin thoughtfully. "It is a very enticing offer," he eventually said. "But I hope you will understand if I need a few days to consider it. I don't usually sell my slaves without a damn good reason so I want to think this through before I decide."

"Of course," Horaxes agreed smoothly. "Perhaps I can give a small token as consideration for this negotiation." He gestured to Brock.

His 'slave' raised an arm and activated his omni-tool, linking with the batarian and transferring fifty thousand credits across. Included in the transfer was that specially designed tracing bug that Hectar had so brilliantly created.

The batarian's eyes widen with greed as he saw the received amount enter his own accounts. "Yes, I can definitely consider this… small gift and I shall get back to you within the week."

Horaxes stood, feeling relieved that it was almost over and he could go back to his normal, relatively boring life as a weapons designer…

"On one condition."

Horaxes froze and turned back to face the sneering visage of the batarian noble. "And what condition would that be?" he asked, dread starting fill his stomachs.

Krashki pointed at Brock. "I want to see him hurt."

Horaxes looked at Brock, feeling despaired. He knew that the human hadn't hesitated to shoot himself in the hand to make sure that a mission was successful. Still, that didn't mean that Horaxes wanted to be the one to make him go through more pain. The poor boy had been through enough of that. Still, if anyone was willing to go through pain to get the job done, it was Brock Neilson.

"Unfortunately, the only thing that I have to give such a demonstration," Horaxes said, "is my old combat knife. I trust that this will be sufficient?" He pulled out the wickedly sharp, curved blade that was standard issue to all turian military personnel.

At the nod from the batarian, Horaxes handed the blade handle first to Brock, who looked up at him with a pathetic expression. "Give yourself two, Worm," he sneered outwardly, inwardly hating what he was doing.

To his credit, Brock didn't even blink. "Yes, Master," he mewled, grabbing the offered knife. Without a pause, he reached up and gave two slashed across his left arm in a relatively scar free spot, leave parallel lines of red six inches long on his left triceps. Blood immediately started to run freely along his elbow, across his forearm and dripped off his fingers onto the steel floor. The human cleaned the blade on his pants and returned it to Horaxes.

"Good, now use that medigel and clean yourself up. I won't have you making a mess on the floor," Horaxes barked. The human scurried away to comply and Horaxes turned back to the now amused batarian. "Satisfactory?" he asked, fighting to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

The batarian smiled. "Yes, for now. I will get back to you within the week." With that he bowed and the two batarians left.

Brock took another minute to clean up the spilled blood and they returned to the Aria's main entrance. The first thing that Horaxes noticed was that the pirate queen was staring at Brock with laser-like intensity."

"I take it your business today has concluded?" Aria asked, not looking away from the human.

"Indeed it is, Madam T'Loak," Horaxes confirmed in his still sleazy voice.

"All right, tone it down," she said, finally sending a deadpan look at Horaxes. "The other party has gone, and they took all their minders with them." She turned back to Brock. "Though you do seem accustomed to the role of a slave, Mr Neilson. Are you this submissive in all aspects of your life?"

"You would have to ask the ones that gave me the scars to find that out," he said, cocking on of those weirdly mobile eyebrows. "Not sure if you can though. It might take a while for you to find all the pieces and put them back together. I did rip out their tongues. And eyes. And flay them alive. And cut off their ears, then their limbs. Then killed them all. So yeah, you get on that."

The asari rolled her eyes but Horaxes watched with interest as he saw the slight curve of her lips in the slightest shadow of a smile. "Or maybe you are just too stupid to think of a way to get out of a situation without having to hurt yourself."

The human shrugged. "Work with the tools you have, not the ones you wish for. My tools tell me that you watched the whole thing on your security cameras and heard him demand my injury."

Her face twisted slightly in irritation. "You could have said no."

"Not if we wanted this deal to go through," Brock countered. "I do what's necessary, whether it means I kill, save or even self-harm to get the job done. As long as there is a legitimate purpose for such activity then I will do it. Anyway, milady," he punctuated his words with a deep bow, "we need to get back to our ship and I have an appointment with an angry nurse who will more than likely resort to smacking me in the head again. I thank you for the use of your rooms and as promised I will keep you informed."

"Sure." With that, Aria T'Loak gave one lingering look at Brock and then turned away, leaving both the human and turian to leave the club without interference.

As the finally made it to an aircar that they could take back to their landing dock, Horaxes finally brought up something that he had been wondering about.

"So, what did she say to you?" he asked.

"Hmmm?" Brock grunted in confusion, brought out of whatever thoughts he had. "Who?"

"Aria, when she spoke to you before meeting," Horaxes clarified. "What did she say?"

"Oh that," Brock exclaimed in understanding. "Not much, just that she had made sure that her guards would step in if the batarians went too far."

"Ah, I see. I thought she might have said that she was half krogan, going by the way she was staring at your body the whole time."

Brock chuckled. "Yikes, drawing the interest of the pirate queen of Omega? That would likely end up with me being shackled in a dark dungeon somewhere."

"Oh, I think it is probably, seeing how she was clearly showing that interest."

"Well, if I mysteriously disappear anywhere near her club make sure that Jurt finds me before Liserias does, because if I am still alive, the doc will tear strips off me."

Horaxes couldn't help laughing at that. "Oh, trust me, after the way she grumbled over that gunshot wound in your hand, those strips are about to torn off you for cutting yourself."

Brock swore with feeling. Horaxes laughed. All in all, not a bad day.

…

 **Excerpts from the Krogan Word Vid Reviews by Ognut Grax**

 **The Rocky series**

Sometimes the best thing a person can do is just duke it out. The humans seem to have picked that up in the Rocky series. If you want to see people trying to knock the hell out of each other in what would only be legal on Tuchanka now, go see this vid series. There are different stories in each vid, but the overlying message is the same: no matter what your problem is, it can be solved by punching it in the face.

…

 **Starship Troopers**

You know, my first clan leader used to tell me stories about the Rachni Wars. This is probably how I could imagine those stories taking place. Though it disturbs me a little how some of the tactics the bugs used were the same tactics that we used during the Krogan Rebellion. Just because we and they both threw asteroids at planets doesn't make us as bad as them!

Still, as they say in the vid, a good bug is a dead bug. And we killed all ours! Oh, and the vid is nice and explosiony.

…

 **Dredd**

This. This is how law enforcement should be. None of that wussy CSEC ask nicely crap. Just tell people 'do it or get shot'. If that was how law enforcement on the Citadel was, there wouldn't be any need for the turians. Us krogan would have fought for every single one of those jobs. Hell, some of us mighta done it for free.

Also, anyone out there think they can make one of those guns he uses? If so, I'm putting an order in for thirty.

…

 **The Human Centipede**

What. The. F***?! This is what happens when a vid production studio gives a crazy person too much money. No one had better tell the salarians about this. One of those stupid squishies might think they should give it a try.

…

 **Battle Royale**

You know what? I think that if we pitched this to the salarians as a way to prevent krogan overpopulation, they might consider curing the genophage. It would also let us know who the best warriors from among the children would be. We should probably get on that.

…

 **Jurassic World**

To the salarian STG agents who go through my mail: here's an idea. Stop wasting your time reading about how someone wants to mail me the recipe for pure ryncol and get on this. Those V-raptors and that I-Rex (dunno how to spell it) would be the perfect predator to help control the krogan population that you all fear so much. You don't even have to put it on Tuchanka! Just make it and we will go find it! it would be the greatest pilgrimage of our people. So start working on it!

Please?

…

 **The Patriot**

 ****** In lieu of a review, the writer has merely supplied a list of places where the reader can purchase a tomahawk. He further said that he has bought three.

…

 **A/N So that was it for this time. Review/Follow/Favourite as you please.**

 **Hope you enjoyed the extra krogan film reviews. I realise that I haven't edited this as thoroughly as I usually do so there are probably heaps of mistakes. Sorry if there is. Hope you all had a good Christmas and have a great New Year. Until next time!**


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